


The Sun Will Be Shining

by amine



Series: Delinquent AU [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Arguing, Awkward Dates, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Romance, Blow Jobs, Body Image, Car Accidents, Clothing Kink, Consensual Kink, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flirting, Heartache, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Innuendo, Insecurity, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Married Couple, Masturbation, Non-Penetrative Sex, Old Married Couple, Pet Names, Pining, Poetry, Reunions, Romantic Fluff, Sensory Deprivation, Sex Toys, Teasing, Therapy, Tongue Piercings, Touch-Starved, Triggers, Trust Issues, Valentine's Day, Voyeurism, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-07 12:35:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 26,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11059095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amine/pseuds/amine
Summary: "The longer I’m with you, the more I don’t know how I ever lived without you."Short fic collection of various ratings, all set in the same universe.





	1. Beach

**Author's Note:**

> Because although these short fics are _technically_ part of my Delinquent AU, I think they also work well as standalone fics. ~~And I'm also still leaning towards not wanting to repost that series, aha...~~ The tags/rating will be updated as needed.

Arthur shifts as the plastic of the rented beach chair digs into his legs, which are not as covered as he’d like them to be. As he tries to settle himself into a comfortable position, giggling to his right makes him frown.

A couple of girls sit on beach towels near Arthur’s chair and umbrella, and they giggle to each other as they stare at someone near the water. Arthur doesn’t need to look to know that they’re watching Alfred, and he glares at them behind his sunglasses. He can’t say he blames them, since he knows very well that Alfred makes an unreasonably attractive beachgoer. That doesn’t stop his irritation.

Alfred for his part has been completely oblivious to the attention he’s getting. Instead he’s building sandcastles near the water with a couple of children and paying no attention to the cute girls in bikinis who are giggling about how they want to meet him. Arthur narrows his eyes at them and instead focuses on Alfred.

Rather, he focuses on Alfred’s toned arms and bare chest, which have tanned nicely since they got there. His skin is glistening from sweat and suntan oil, and Arthur wants to run his hands over those abs and lick up the trail leading— He inhales a sharp breath when he realizes his mouth is hanging open.

“I’m going to go talk to him!”

Arthur snaps back to attention to look over at the girls again, one of whom is standing up and heading down the beach to the water while her friend cheers her on. He watches as the girl approaches Alfred, who stops his sandcastle building to smile brightly at her. Arthur doesn’t have to wonder what they’re talking about, because it’s not long before Alfred’s face turns a bright shade of red that is noticeable even from where Arthur is sitting. From the way Alfred looks away and fidgets, Arthur knows that he’s babbling.

He buries his face in his book as the girl comes back, but peers over it just in time to see her disappointed face as she sits next to her friend.

“He says he has a boyfriend!”

Arthur’s heart races and he further buries his face in his book lest they look over at him and realize that he’s the boyfriend Alfred is referring to. His cheeks burn knowing that Alfred can casually admit to such a thing. When they don’t acknowledge him and continue talking about how unfair it is that someone like Alfred plays for the other team, Arthur lowers his book.

It’s a decision he regrets, since he spots Alfred waving frantically at him. Arthur sighs and contemplates pretending that he didn’t see—he’s wearing sunglasses, after all—and going back to reading. When Alfred starts waving both of his arms, however, Arthur sighs and sets the book to the side. He stands up and hesitates. While he was firm in his refusal to take off his shirt, Alfred managed to convince him to wear shorts and a short-sleeved shirt. His pale, scrawny limbs are unsightly amidst the tanned bodies on the beach, but he holds his head up in defiance and leaves the shelter of the umbrella to see what Alfred wants. He doesn’t look, but he wonders if the girls from before notice him.

“Look at our sandcastle!” Alfred gestures with great enthusiasm at the sand as Arthur walks up. 

Arthur lifts up his sunglasses, and he has to admit that it really is a rather impressive sandcastle, with multiple towers and little windows carved into the sand. A little boy is adding miniature flags to the towers, while a little girl stares at him and Alfred with a suspicious look on her face. Arthur puts his sunglasses back on and turns to Alfred.

“It’s very nice. All of your hard work paid off.”

Alfred beams, and just as Arthur starts to return the smile, the little girl stands up and rushes to Alfred’s side, grabbing onto his arm.

“Alfred’s _my_ boyfriend,” the girl says and stares at Arthur with puffed out cheeks.

Arthur bristles, but just as he’s about to snap back that it’s not true, he catches himself before he can say anything. How ridiculous it would be if he snapped at a little girl like that. He turns to Alfred, who just gives him a sheepish smile. He sighs and turns to head back to the safety of the umbrella. He pauses when he hears the sound of Alfred’s voice, and he looks behind him.

“Ah—wait! Hey guys, why don’t you go tell your mom? Bet she’d like to see this!”

The little girl stays still for a moment, but her brother calls after her and she finally releases Alfred’s arm. As the two children run up the beach, Alfred steps to Arthur’s side. Arthur looks away from Alfred and heads back to the umbrella with quick steps.

“What’s wrong, Arthur? Wait, you’re not seriously jealous of Katie, are you? She’s just a kid so I thought I’d play along!”

“Of course I’m not jealous of a little girl, Alfred. Don’t say such stupid things.”

As they near the umbrella, the two girls who’d been giggling over Alfred watch them, and Arthur grimaces. Alfred looks over at them as well and his eyes widen. He runs in front of Arthur and tries to make eye contact, which Arthur avoids.

“Is it…because of that girl who was talking to me before?” Alfred asks, but the way he says it makes Arthur certain that he already knows the answer.

“No, of course not.” Arthur says it far too quickly, though, and Alfred’s face softens.

“Hey, don’t be jealous!”

Arthur grunts and takes a seat again, picking up his book with an irritated swat in Alfred’s direction. Alfred just laughs and sits next to him, leaning over close.

“Come on. Who needs bikini girls when I’ve got my sweetheart right here? All pale and grumpy.”

Alfred nuzzles his face, and Arthur shoves him away. He blushes despite himself, though, which just makes him even more irritated. 

“Yes, pale and skinny and completely out of place at this beach. I don’t know why I thought this would ever be a good thing.” Arthur frowns and tries to resume reading his book, but Alfred plucks it out of his hands. Before Arthur can snap at him, though, Alfred gives him a very earnest look.

“I’m not looking at anyone but you,” Alfred says, and his eyes are full of unabashed adoration.

Arthur’s cheeks flare up and he coughs into a fist. As he huffs and tries to say something, Alfred continues to watch him with the same look. Arthur finally clears his throat and adjusts his posture. “Don’t say things like that so easily.”

“It’s true, though. I have all I want right here.” Alfred grins at him and Arthur’s cheeks burn again.

“You’re going to make your girlfriend jealous. Better be careful,” Arthur says and takes his book out of Alfred’s hands.

“Heh. Yeah. Better go check on her, eh? Wouldn’t want to ruin our ‘date’!”

Alfred stands up and, after flashing Arthur a thumbs up, jogs back down the beach. Arthur watches him for a moment then turns to see the girls from before staring at him. He can’t help himself, and he gives them a small, smug smile as he adjusts himself in his chair and opens his book.


	2. Stranger

The clock tower chimes the noon hour as Arthur takes a seat on a bench and pulls out a cigarette to pass the time. Around him, students greet each other and wander off in groups of twos and threes, occasionally glancing over at him, but the novelty of watching them is quick to wear off. He starts to think about what he wants for lunch and how much time he has before he has to go pretend that he cares about algebra. 

He is vaguely aware of someone standing in front of him, but he doesn’t look up until the person speaks.

“This seat taken?”

Arthur squints up to the biggest smile he’s ever seen, and he quickly relaxes his own expression and clicks his tongue.

“It might be.”

Mr. Big Smile sits down next to him anyway, and Arthur carefully shifts away.

“You know, I’ve seen you around before. Brit lit, right?”

Arthur taps the ash from his cigarette and carefully studies Mr. Big Smile’s face. “That’s right.”

“Thought so. No one else looks and sounds that hot reading Shakespeare.”

Arthur raises an eyebrow, and the fact that Mr. Big Smile is shifting a little closer is not lost on him.

“Do I know _you_?” Arthur turns to take an exaggerated drag of his cigarette, which Mr. Big Smile watches with intense focus.

“Maybe we could get to know each other. You know, _really_ get to know each other.”

His expression is still so intense that it actually makes Arthur laugh. He takes a moment to let it out, the fact that he’s watched in the same way the entire time dragging it out longer, and then he shakes his head.

“I’ll give you credit for actually making me laugh, but really? That’s the best you have?”

Mr. Big Smile shrugs and has the decency to look sheepish as he scratches the back of his head. “Heh. Sorry, I’m really bad at this.” He stops scratching his head to let his arm rest on the back of the bench, and Arthur briefly looks at it before returning his gaze to Mr. Big Smile’s face. “But I’ve been wanting to meet you for a long time. Just being next to you is making me a little crazy. I was just thinking that…maybe you’d let me contact you again.”

Their thighs brush, but this time Arthur doesn’t move. He huffs and taps his cigarette again. 

“Short term, I presume?”

“We could make it long term if you want.”

Mr. Big Smile is smiling, but there is a glint in his eyes that is intriguing. Arthur puts out his cigarette and reaches for his bag. All the while, Mr. Big Smile watches him with interest.

Arthur tears a bit of paper out of one of his notebooks and scribbles down his mobile number, and then he folds it up. He holds out the square of paper between his index and middle fingers, and Mr. Big Smile reaches for it with an expression befitting his moniker. 

At the last second, though, Arthur pulls his fingers away with a grin of his own.

“You almost had me there for a second, Alfred.”

Next to him, Alfred’s face falls and his shoulders slump as he drops his hand. “Are you serious? I still didn’t get it?”

Arthur laughs and crumples up the paper, but he takes Alfred’s hand firmly in his.

“You were close this time. The arm on the bench was a nice touch.”

Alfred continues to pout, but Arthur just laughs again and stands up, tugging on Alfred’s hand as he grabs his bag. 

“Don’t make that face. I’ll buy you lunch for making my heart flutter.”

“Really? I actually did that?” Alfred springs to his feet, his face brightening exponentially.

Arthur smiles fondly at him, and he pulls Alfred along with him knowing full well that he will want a cheeseburger for lunch. He chuckles to himself.

“Yes, of course you did.”


	3. Another Stranger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one starts to toe the line of needing a higher rating, but only for a moment. ~~There will be probably be a legit need to bump up the rating later, though /cough~~

He’s very much aware that he’s being watched. This time he glances up to see the man with green eyes watching him out of the corner of his eye while he lights up a cigarette. 

Alfred turns back to his beer sitting on the bar counter and lifts it with slightly shaking hands. He downs the rest in one gulp and, when he can get the bartender’s attention, he motions to his empty glass.

“I’ll have another.”

“Make that two.”

Alfred’s head jerks up to see the man with green eyes sliding onto the stool next to him. Their shoulders brush for the briefest of instances, but it’s enough to send a jolt through Alfred’s body. He shivers at their close proximity, but when he looks over, the man is no longer watching him.

Alfred gratefully takes his new glass of beer, but although the man isn’t staring at him anymore, Alfred swears that the way they keep brushing up against each other is intentional—the bar isn’t _that_ crowded. Every once in a while, Alfred feels a heated gaze burning through him, but he doesn’t look over lest he do something that will get him in trouble.

No matter how very tempting it is to give in to those green eyes.

Alfred finishes his beer and reaches for his wallet, but before he can remove enough money to pay for his drinks, the man does it before him. Alfred twists his head to look at him.

“It’s on me.”

The man stands up, keeping their gazes locked, and he lingers for a moment before he heads for the exit. After a moment’s hesitation, Alfred nearly falls off the stool as he clamors after. The cool night air feels good on his burning face and it sobers him enough to follow after the man disappearing into the nearby alleyway.

Alfred barely gets around the corner before the man pushes him up against the wall and presses flush against him. Alfred moans and tries to twist his head to kiss the man, but his effort is in vain. Even so, despite the lingering scent of beer and cigarettes, the man’s breath mingling with his is intoxicating. The man gets very close to him, their lips brushing slightly, and then he grins.

“You want more?”

“Oh, _fuck yes_.” Alfred squirms, both ashamed and excited by how hard he’s getting already.

The man licks Alfred’s lips, making Alfred whimper, and then pulls away. “Hmm. Give me your number then.”

Alfred doesn’t need to be asked twice. He fumbles for something— _anything_ he can write his number down with. The man hands him a pen while he searches every pocket, which Alfred takes gratefully. The only thing he can find to write on is a receipt from earlier, but it will have to do.

When he hands it over, the man’s grin widens and he crumples the paper. Alfred sighs and shakes his head.

“Damn it, you got me again.”

The man—Arthur—laughs. “I hope you wouldn’t give up your number this easily with someone else, Alfred.”

Alfred shakes his head and snakes an arm around Arthur to pull him into the kiss he’d been denied before. “Nah. Just you.”

Arthur laughs and starts to say something, but Alfred lowers his head and starts sucking at his neck, making Arthur groan.

“So I hope you know I’m taking you home and fucking you senseless.”

Arthur laughs breathily and looks Alfred right in the eye. “Only if you know that I’m going to do the same to you.”


	4. Nightmare

He’s running.

His chest is on fire and his legs threaten to buckle beneath him, but if he stops for even a moment his pursuer will catch him.

He rounds a corner, pausing for a moment to take a few heaving breaths, and then he’s running again. That brief pause proves to be a mistake, as he feels icy fingers reaching for his neck.

“—thur? Sweetheart?”

He stumbles at the sound of someone calling him, and he rolls onto his back just in time for his pursuer to reach for him, wrapping cold hands around his neck and—

“Arthur!”

His eyes snap open and he sucks in a sharp breath, staring into blackness. When his eyes focus, he finds himself in their bedroom staring up into Alfred’s concerned face. He sucks in another breath and sits up, sweating despite how much he’s trembling. He presses his hands to his face and tries to calm his breathing.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

Alfred rubs his back, and the sudden contact makes Arthur stiffen. Alfred pulls his hand away, and Arthur grimaces. He hates that he still has these moments of weakness. He hates even more that he can’t just tell Alfred that he had a nightmare and _wants_ the comfort.

“I…need to calm down,” he finally says, the words coming out in a choked croak.

Alfred is quiet for a moment before he speaks. “…you want a hug?”

Arthur pauses, considering that offer for a moment. He turns to give what he hopes is an expression Alfred will understand. Sure enough, Alfred reaches for him and wraps him into a loose embrace. The moment his face presses to Alfred’s shoulder, Arthur’s muscles relax and he closes his eyes. Alfred kisses the top of his head and then nuzzles him, and Arthur lets out a shuddering breath.

“Shh, sweetheart,” Alfred says and starts rubbing Arthur’s back again.

Rather than depend on words he’s not sure he has, Arthur kisses Alfred’s shoulder and lifts his arms to wrap around Alfred, remaining like that until sleep finally takes him again.


	5. Aftercare (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is some light kink in this one (bondage, sensory deprivation, rough sex) and the rating has been updated accordingly. I'll label, as I've done with this one, when fics are NSFW. :)b

Arthur clenches his fist, pulling in vain on the ropes binding him. Alfred kisses him with bruising force then bites his lips. Arthur moans when Alfred bites down hard enough to draw blood, but his attempt to lick his lips is interrupted by Alfred’s mouth and insistent tongue again.

There is no escape from this—not that he wants one. He asked for all of his limbs to be bound this time, as well as having both the blindfold and headphones he’d tried before on Alfred. He really is completely at Alfred’s mercy.

He tries to arch up into Alfred’s rutting hips—a move that proves difficult when he can’t move his feet enough to find purchase. Not that Alfred lets him, with the way he pushes Arthur’s hips down against the bed and thrusts hard against him.

When Alfred moves to lick and suck at Arthur’s neck, Arthur lets his mouth fall open. He can’t tell if it’s his skin that is so hot and slick or if it’s Alfred’s, but no matter who it is, he feels dizzy. He grits his teeth, tasting his own blood.

There’s no way to tell how loud his cry is when Alfred presses their cocks together and starts stroking, but even if it’s an unattractive noise, it doesn’t deter Alfred. He strokes their cocks with quick movements and nips at Arthur’s neck, mouthing words that have no meaning when Arthur can’t hear them. Arthur squeezes his eyes shut behind the blindfold, feeling hot and delirious and nearly unaware of anything but the spikes of pleasure and pain as Alfred bucks against him and tugs on their cocks roughly. Alfred’s teeth on his neck and his free hand holding Arthur’s hips down are much rougher than anything Alfred has ever done to him before, but he toes the line of it being too much without crossing it.

Alfred twitches as he comes, and Arthur feels his spend hot against his stomach, but Alfred keeps stroking their cocks together until Arthur shudders through his orgasm and loses any remaining clarity.

There is only a brief respite before Alfred starts untying the ropes and removing the blindfold and headphones and pulls Arthur out of his haze. Arthur focuses and smiles his reassurance to the look of concern on Alfred’s face. He lifts a hand to stroke Alfred’s hair while Alfred wipes off his stomach. 

He blinks when, instead of Alfred lying on top of him, Alfred pulls him upright and wraps a blanket around him. He doesn’t resist when he’s pulled into Alfred’s arms and immediately nuzzled, but he turns his head just as Alfred kisses his temple.

“What are you doing?”

Alfred looks sheepish but continues the soft kisses. “I was, uh…reading about this. I’m supposed to give you ‘aftercare’ so you don’t panic. You want water or anything?”

Arthur can’t help but smile. He pictures Alfred hard at work on his computer, researching something that no doubt made him blush. “I don’t really think we have that kind of relationship, Alfred.”

“Maybe, but I just want my sweetheart to feel really good.” Alfred nuzzles his nose against Arthur’s, who is too sated to find the move obnoxious. “And besides, I was rougher than usual. The lip biting wasn’t too much, was it? I made you bleed and all.”

Arthur finally takes the opportunity to lick his lips—which will no doubt look questionable later—and finds that they’re still bleeding a little. Regardless, he shakes his head, and Alfred sighs and starts pressing more kisses to Arthur’s face. Arthur closes his eyes and hums. “No. I enjoyed it.”

Alfred brushes their lips together in a proper kiss, which Arthur returns softly. He opens his eyes and huffs. “You’re really getting good at this, you know.”

Alfred grins but thankfully doesn’t gloat. Instead he lowers them both to the bed—Arthur still wrapped up in the blanket—and resumes the cuddling. “Good.”


	6. Exhibitionism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although this one isn't NSFW, there are implications. Also, they are married here, if it's not obvious lol.

It is very difficult for Arthur to hold back amused laughter as he straightens his tie and smooths out his wrinkled shirt. One of his shoes fell off at some point, which he looks for while simultaneously taking delight in Alfred’s attempt to regain his composure.

His cheeks are bright red, though Arthur knows it’s no longer from exertion, and his fingers fumble with the buttons on his suit jacket. Arthur finds his shoe on the other side of the room, and as he goes to pick it up he clears his throat.

“You know, it was very… _sexy_ the way you demanded that those people get out like that.”

And it really was. Just thinking about it makes Arthur shiver.

_“I haven’t seen my husband in months and I’m trying to fuck him right now, so get the fuck out.”_

Remembering his voice—husky and thick from exertion, lust and irritation—is almost enough to make Arthur swoon. Alfred, on the other hand, sputters and whips around to stare at Arthur with wide eyes.

“It wasn’t sexy! It was horrible! Now they’re going to tell other people and the only thing they’ll think of when they see me is that I got horny at a black tie party and fucked my husband against a wall in a house that’s not mine.”

Arthur chuckles to himself and crosses the room to Alfred to straighten his tie before Alfred can tear it off in his flustered state. 

“I don’t know, darling. You _did_ last quite a bit longer after they left. Are you sure it didn’t turn you on? Is exhibitionism one of your secret kinks you still haven’t told me about?”

“No!!” 

His voice is very shrill, though, which just makes Arthur laugh. He pats down the wrinkles in Alfred’s jacket and then leans up to kiss him.

“Are you all right to go back to the party? Or maybe we should just go home and make up for lost time where no one will walk in and see you balls deep inside of me?”

Alfred’s face gets redder and he runs his hand over it. 

“Can we just go home and watch a Disney movie or something?”

Without waiting for a reply, Alfred leaves the room, his ears betraying how embarrassed he is. Arthur picks up his discarded jacket and follows after, chuckling all the while.


	7. Where My Demons Hide

Arthur has a perfect poker face. He knows this very well. His expression will never betray any emotion if he doesn’t want it to. Anyone who looks at him will have no idea what he is thinking. Carefully avoiding eye contact without making it obvious he’s doing so only makes the poker face all the more effective.

Alfred, though, is a different story. Alfred is always looking at him—right _at_ him. Before he knew he loved Alfred and then when they were just “dating” it was still easy to avoid looking at him. Not so easy to keep up his poker face when his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest, but easy to avoid looking directly into his eyes.

Living with him makes that quite a bit more difficult. They sleep together, eat together, and go out together—so many things _together_. 

He’s afraid of what Alfred will see if he stares into his eyes for too long, that he’ll see the truth and leave. So even though he allows Alfred to look him in the eye, he will always eventually turn away.

Until the day he finally spills his entire heart to Alfred and tells him the full truth, only for Alfred to reaffirm his love and acceptance.

Then, he allows Alfred to look him in the eye without shrinking away. He stares right back, knowing that Alfred already loves whatever he’ll see.

Then Alfred’s mouth quirks up in a smile as they continue to stare at each other and finally laughs, and Arthur catches him as he falls laughing, and his poker face crumbles.


	8. Happy in Being Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one features a poem by Walt Whitman.

“You know, hot dogs are the last thing I’d ever expect you to be a fan of.”

Arthur lowers his hot dog to turn to smirk at Alfred instead. “I happen to like long pieces of meat.”

Alfred blushes and takes a swift bite of his chili dog, and Arthur laughs. Alfred is quick to settle down, though, and he finishes his chili dog within a few bites. As Arthur chews on his hot dog, he feels Alfred’s hand on top of his at his side. He turns his hand over, threading their fingers before he resumes eating. 

When they’ve both finished they sit in a comfortable silence, hands clasped at their sides. Arthur alternates his gaze between the people passing by and Alfred’s face, which is soft with a pleasant smile. Arthur looks down at their hands and rubs his thumb over the back of Alfred’s hand. Alfred’s response is to squeeze a little harder and Arthur turns to look in front of him.

“A glimpse through an interstice caught,  
Of a crowd of workmen and drivers in a bar-room around the stove late of a winter night, and I unremark’d seated in a corner,  
Of a youth who loves me and whom I love, silently approaching and seating himself near, that he may hold me by the hand,  
A long while amid the noises of coming and going, of drinking and oath and smutty jest,  
There we two, content, happy in being together, speaking little, perhaps not a word.”

Alfred is silent, which is to be expected, but then he speaks up. “…roses are red, violets are blue, I can’t do poetry, but I really love you?” 

After a moment to parse Alfred’s words, Arthur snorts then bursts out laughing, and he releases Alfred’s hand to clutch at his stomach. At his side, Alfred is scowling.

“Don’t laugh! I was trying to be all nice and shit, but excuuuuse me for not being Mr. Fancy Schmancy words like you.”

Arthur wipes at his eyes and grabs Alfred’s hand again, kissing the back of it between chuckles. “Don’t be mad, Alfred. It was hilarious, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

Alfred scowls a moment longer but then softens, sighing as he squeezes Arthur’s hand. “Yeah well. That’s someone else’s poem, yeah? I still think you should write your own.”

Arthur frowns. “And I still say that no words could ever do you justice.”

Alfred shrugs, grinning slightly. “Doesn’t have to be about me. You could write about nature or something. Or hey, write a poem about Hero. Bet you could do something really wordy and poetic about him! Or if you really want to write something about me, you could start with the pet names you have for me? I know you’ve got some.”

It’s Arthur’s turn to blush and he coughs into his free hand. “But those are embarrassing. And sappy. That’s too much.”

That just makes Alfred’s face light up, and he laughs. “Aww, come on, sweetheart! Pleeeease? I wanna hear you be sappy and embarrassing.”

Arthur feels his blush reach his ears and he bows his head. He fiddles with Alfred’s hand and clears his throat. “My precious love. My dearest darling. My beautiful, beautiful boy. My beloved and my true.”

Alfred is silent again, and it makes Arthur feel horribly uncomfortable. He feels exposed and vulnerable, and he contemplates fleeing before Alfred can continue the awkward silence. Before he can bolt, Alfred shifts his weight.

“…wow, that makes me calling you ‘sweetheart’ sound really dumb in comparison, ha ha.” 

He thought his blush couldn’t get any hotter, but his cheeks warm further. He grinds his teeth, but coughs out a reply. “I like being sweetheart, though.”

“Yeah, I know.” 

Arthur looks up into Alfred’s soft smile, and he lowers his head again, grumbling to himself. Alfred rubs the back of his hand, though, and it’s a very pleasant feeling.


	9. Therapy

After the first time, he comes home and falls face first onto the bed where he doesn’t move. He stares at the wall, only occasionally sighing 

It’s not long until he hears a sound like low thunder and then there’s something heavy on his back. He lets out an amused huff of air.

“Hullo, Hero.”

Hero settles on his back and starts kneading him, and Arthur closes his eyes. After a moment, the claws in his back become too much and he slowly rolls over, prompting Hero to move. Arthur waits for Hero to move around and then gently pushes him over. Hero falls over easily, purring all the while, and Arthur crawls forward to press his face against Hero’s fur. He closes his eyes again and lets Hero’s warm fur and rumbling purr soothe him.

“Arthur? Are you here?”

Despite the slightly anxious tone to Alfred’s voice, Arthur doesn’t get up or even open his eyes. He lets out a soft grunt before he responds.

“In here, Alfred.”

He can’t see Alfred come in, but he hears him huffing like he’s been running. There is a moment where Alfred doesn’t say anything and just takes deep breaths.

“Hey, how are you feeling? Sorry I’m late. Lost track of time.”

Arthur resists the urge to open his eyes and give Alfred a confused look and just shifts slightly.

“Late? For what?”

“I told you I’d be here when you get home on the days when you…well, you know. So…you okay? You wanna talk about it?”

Arthur scowls into Hero’s fur and curls one of his hands into a fist.

“I just want to be alone.” Silence follows and he adds as an afterthought, “…with my cat.”

“…okay, sweetheart. But I’ll be around if you need me.”

Arthur cringes when Alfred ruffles his hair, but doesn’t open his eyes until he hears the door close. He lets out a deep sigh and lifts a hand to stroke Hero’s fur. Hero’s already considerable purring gets even louder and Arthur smiles.

One step at a time, he tells himself. He closes his eyes again, letting his mind wander until he drifts off to sleep.

* * *

The next time, Alfred is already home when Arthur returns, and he finds Alfred sitting at the kitchen table with a mug between his hands. He also notices a teacup in front of the opposite chair. He opens his mouth to question it but is interrupted by Alfred.

“Hey! I made you some tea!”

Arthur raises an eyebrow, but takes a seat. He lifts the cup and takes a sip, and he immediately recoils. It’s a mix of too weak and too sweet, like Alfred didn’t steep it long enough and then added too much honey. Alfred sighs, making Arthur look up at him.

“…I didn’t make it right, did I?” 

“No, you didn’t.” But he smiles and drinks it anyway. It’s the thought that counts, after all. Even if it’s a painful and unappetizing thought. 

“How was it?” Alfred asks, and he looks sympathetic.

Arthur’s smile fades and he frowns into his teacup. He shrugs, hoping Alfred will drop it.

“You wanna talk about it?”

Arthur’s frown deepens at that and he shakes his head. He’s tired of talking. He’s done enough of that. Alfred lets out a sigh and stands up. He walks past Arthur, pausing to bend down and kiss his forehead.

“Let me know if you need anything.”

Arthur quickly downs the rest of the tea and leaves the room shortly after Alfred. Lying face down on the bed for the remainder of the evening sounds very tempting.

* * *

The third time is when Arthur feels completely raw and exposed, and he only barely manages to make it back to the flat. For a moment he considers lying on the bed and staring at the wall again, but in this case he knows that won’t be enough. He leans against the wall and calls into the flat.

“Alfred?”

“Hi, sweetheart! Let me save this real quick!”

Arthur follows the sound of Alfred’s voice and finds him playing a video game of some sort. He sets the controller to the side and pats the empty seat next to him on the sofa. Arthur looks at the spot and then looks at Alfred, who is smiling at him, and he shuffles over. He sits next to Alfred and leans heavily against him.

Alfred carefully pulls him into a hug and starts rubbing his back. “…feel like talking?”

Arthur is quick to shake his head.

“I don’t like talking about it. I’m tired of talking about it. I’m tired of feeling weak and helpless, and I’m tired of this being my burden that’s out of my control.” Arthur frowns and buries his face in Alfred’s neck. “I just want it to go away.”

Alfred is silent at first and just rubs Arthur’s back, but then he takes a deep breath. “…I know. But I’m really proud of you, sweetheart.”

Arthur has to snort at that. “ _Proud_ of me? Why?”

“Because. You’re taking _back_ control, and you’re being strong enough to face it even though you don’t want to.” Alfred kisses Arthur’s hair and then rests his nose there. “And you’re strong enough to know that you’re _not_ strong enough to face it on your own.”

Alfred has a way of doing that—completely undoing him. Arthur’s eyes sting but he wills away the tears this time. 

“Alfred, will you…” He doesn’t finish that request, but he wraps his arms around Alfred and pulls himself closer. 

“You know I will,” Alfred replies and hugs him tighter.

As Alfred rubs his back and gently rocks him, Arthur lets his eyelids slowly droop. It’ll get easier, he tells himself. For now, this is enough.


	10. Salad (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sliiiightly NSFW with some mentioned sex and then Arthur being a little shit. :'D

“You know…you can just admit that it turned you on, Alfred.”

Alfred grunts and violently stirs up their salad, sending dressing and lettuce flying. Arthur clicks his tongue and stirs the pasta at a much more leisurely pace.

“I’m not going to judge you, dearest. Everything that has turned you on has wound up being enjoyable for me, as well.”

“Can we drop this?” Without waiting for an answer, Alfred carries the salad over to the table and sets it down, giving Arthur a pointed look as he sits.

Arthur sighs and spoons out pasta onto plates and follows after. He sets Alfred’s heaping portion in front of him and then slides into his chair across from Alfred.

As they eat in silence, Alfred’s gaze keeps flickering up to meet Arthur’s, only for Alfred’s face to turn red. Alfred shovels food into his mouth and looks away, making Arthur sigh.

Honestly, all that happened was that Arthur gave Alfred a blowjob, only for Alfred to come on his face and get hard again immediately after, presumably from the sight of his come on Arthur’s face. It’s such a tame kink, really. 

While Alfred chugs his water, Arthur takes a thoughtful bite of his salad and regards Alfred, who once again blushes and looks away. Arthur takes another over exaggerated bite of his salad, making Alfred blush and Arthur smirk.

He has ways of getting Alfred to admit to these kinds of things, after all.

Arthur takes another bite of his salad and chews on it thoughtfully. He sets his fork down and clears his throat.

“You know, this salad could really use more dressing.”

Alfred’s fork clinks against his plate, and Arthur gives him a quick glance before he grabs the bottle of caesar dressing. He gives a few half-hearted attempts to get some out of the bottle and shakes his head.

“Strange, it doesn’t seem to want to come out.”

He glances over at Alfred again, who is watching him with wide eyes, and then he flips the bottle over, giving it a few shakes before he squeezes it, causing some of the dressing to fly up and hit him in the face. He blinks and reaches up to wipe it, only succeeding in smearing it over his face even more.

Alfred, meanwhile, has eyes as wide as saucers and his mouth hanging open. He slowly closes it, and his gulp is audible before he flees the table.

After taking a moment to actually wipe his face clean, Arthur calmly follows after.


	11. Pride

Arthur’s office is fairly modest, without much flair or personal touch. It’s not something he feels the need to focus on, and he doesn’t think adding things to his office would make him any more or less approachable to his students.

The one thing he has that sets his office apart from any other unoccupied office is Alfred’s astronaut portrait sitting in a frame on his desk. He usually keeps it turned so that no one but him can see it, but occasionally someone will notice and either comment or give him a curious look.

“Your brother?” 

Arthur looks up at the grad student with a raised eyebrow. He glances over at the portrait before turning back to her. In his opinion they don’t look even the slightest bit alike, and certainly not enough to mistake them for brothers.

“…my husband.”

“Oh!” She claps her hands over her mouth and her face turns red. “Oh. Well, he’s very handsome.”

Arthur looks away and stares at Alfred’s beaming face in the portrait. “…he is.”

“He must be really something!”

“…he is.”

They both fall silent after that, and she clears her throat and excuses herself somewhat awkwardly.

Still, Arthur’s lips turn up into the smallest of smiles, and he turns the portrait so that it is slightly more visible.


	12. Marmalade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Alfred's POV of a story in the main series. I'm hoping it will work without that context, but to be brief, Alfred and Arthur had a fight where Arthur left him. This happens after they got back together.

It’s probably being very cowardly to avoid going home because he knows Arthur will be there, but the extended silences and lack of something as simple as eye contact have been so disconcerting that even spending long hours in the library has seemed like a more desirable way to pass the time.

Even so, Alfred has been reading the same sentence over and over for what has probably been about 45 minutes, and the words pass right through him each time. Even if he’s avoiding home, his thoughts often drift back to Arthur.

How does he move on after Arthur ran out on him again? He wants Arthur home—he’s _thrilled_ that Arthur is back home—but that doesn’t erase the anger and the hurt. No matter how much he wants to just go home and pull Arthur into his arms and never let go, he doesn’t want what happened to be okay. But he has no idea what to say to Arthur that could help them move forward rather than back.

He leans back in his chair and runs a hand through his hair, letting out a deep sigh. He stares at the ceiling for a moment before he tips forward again and glares at the sentence he’s been reading and re-reading. After another attempt to parse the sentence, he looks in his backpack and finds the bear Elizaveta gave him there. He looked like he needed it, she said. He’s not sure what she meant by that, but he’s never really been into bears. He can’t exactly get rid of something a friend gave him, though, so he supposes it will just be a random decorative bear in the apartment.

Just thinking about the apartment makes his chest tighten, but he supposes he’s wasted enough time that day. He can’t avoid Arthur forever. He doesn’t want to.

* * *

Alfred stiffens when he hears the front door open, but he is slow to push his laptop away and get off the bed to go see if it’s Arthur. 

He does find Arthur in the kitchen staring at the teddy bear he left there, but then Arthur looks at him and quickly averts his gaze. Alfred’s chest tightens again, but he swallows the lump in his throat and presses on.

"Oh, sorry about the bear. A friend gave it to me. Pretty cute, huh?"

Arthur mumbles some sort of disagreement and starts to push out of the kitchen, but Alfred clears his throat.

"Oh, by the way...I'm going to be spending some time with my friends all day tomorrow, so we might not get to have breakfast together...if that's okay?"

Arthur pauses in the doorway but doesn’t look back, and Alfred almost wants to ask Arthur why he won’t look at him.

“That’s fine,” Arthur finally says and then vanishes.

Alfred sighs and pulls off his glasses, running his hand through his hair. Love shouldn’t be this hard, but he has no idea what to say or do.

The door to Arthur’s room is closed when he goes to check, and he lifts a hand to push it open but shrinks back at the last moment. He trudges back to his room, feeling like maybe this won’t work out after all.

* * *

His friends remain a great distraction from his ongoing relationship woes, but although he and Eduard decided to make a movie of their own for no reason other than to say they did, Ivan had to go and ruin the project by checking up on Eduard and Toris. At least that’s what he said, but more likely he just wanted to ruin Alfred’s day.

The interruption means that he has to go home, even if only briefly, and he hates that even for a moment he dreads the thought. Arthur is his _sweetheart_ for crying out loud, he reminds himself, but there is always the possibility that he won’t ever get to call Arthur that ever again. Maybe they’ll never be comfortable enough with each other again that he can call Arthur his sweetheart the way he used to.

Arthur isn’t sitting at the kitchen table drinking tea or reading on the sofa when Alfred gets home, leaving him unsure if Arthur is even home. The thought is both disappointing and a relief. When he passes by Arthur’s room, though, he finds the door wide open. He pauses when he sees Arthur inside and his heart flutters.

Rather than reading or petting Hero, though, Arthur is lying on his bed and hugging the teddy bear that Alfred left there. He has a silly smile on his face as he holds the bear close, and Alfred feels his own mouth turn up into a smile. It grows as he watches Arthur and for a moment the doubts he’s had about their relationship drift away.

Here is the boy he fell in love with. Underneath that rough exterior is someone warm and beautiful, who enjoys Shakespeare and tea, dotes on his cat and hugs teddy bears in secret. Despite the troubles and the bad feelings, Alfred is still out of his head in love with Arthur. That hasn’t changed.

Arthur looks up, noticing him standing in the doorway and grinning, and his face pales and he throws the bear across the room.

"Weren't you going to spend time with your friends?" Arthur’s voice is strained, and Alfred’s smile widens.

"Ivan showed up and ended things early. Hell if I'm going to spend my free time with that guy." He shrugs and regards Arthur fondly. "So...you like the teddy bear, huh?"

Arthur blushes and looks down at the floor, shaking his head. "I don't—just because I was—"

Alfred can’t help but laugh, but he also crosses the room to pick up the thrown teddy bear and bring it back over to the bed, where he sits down. He holds up the bear in front of his face and looks at Arthur.

"Awww, how can you say no to this face, Arthur? Mr. Bear loves you!"

Arthur swipes the bear out of his hands and looks back down at the floor. "Marmalade."

Alfred blinks, wondering if Arthur is asking for food. “Eh? Marmalade?”

“His name is Marmalade.” Arthur clears his throat and although his face is turned away, Alfred can see the blush on his ears.

"Ahhh...okay, then. Marmalade!" Warmth fills him and he can’t help but find it adorable that Arthur even thought to name the bear.

Arthur looks up at him, and his scowl is quick to fade into a lost look. Alfred also lets his smile fade and this time he looks at the floor.

"I think...we need to talk a little. That's how this whole mess got started, right? Because we don't always communicate. So I think we should work on getting better at that."

“Yes,” Arthur says, the word choked. “I suppose we do.”

* * *

Alfred steps away from the room, lifting a hand to touch his lips. He feels both better and more unsure now that he’s kissed Arthur again. He’s tempted to go back and kiss Arthur senseless because the hesitant kisses were nice, but not quite enough. He also knows that doing that would be pushing something that is still fragile and full of uncertainty, so small steps are best. Still, it was nice to tell Arthur the things he’s been thinking about since Arthur left, to reaffirm Arthur as his sweetheart and to kiss him again after so long without.

He licks his lips, still tasting Arthur’s kiss there, and heads for the kitchen to study. Maybe he’ll be able to get past that sentence now.


	13. Tease (NSFW)

“So…tell me again why you want to do this?” Alfred flexes his wrists as Arthur finishes tying them to the back of his chair, and he shifts in his seat.

Arthur stands up and smiles at him. “Because it’s my birthday and this is what I want.”

It’s a fair enough excuse, especially since Alfred agreed that he’d do anything Arthur wanted, but he still frowns. “But why do I have to be naked?”

Arthur leans over and kisses him, and his smile when he pulls away makes Alfred swallow. Arthur starts pulling off his pants and boxers, and Alfred _knows_ that the way Arthur slows down as he pulls the pants over his ass is done on purpose. He tosses the pants to the side and his smile widens.

“You’re naked because I want to see how quickly and how much this turns you on.”

Alfred can only watch as Arthur disappears into the closet and returns pulling a hoodie over his head—one of his hoodies, of course. Alfred squirms in his seat, watching as Arthur settles himself on the bed.

“Okay, so why do you need to wear that?” He tries to sound casual, but his already hoarse voice gives him away.

Arthur gives him a very self-satisfied smile and turns his face into the fabric. “Because it smells like you. Can’t have a proper fantasy if I’m not stimulating all of my senses.” His gaze flickers down to Alfred’s lap and his smile widens. “I see that’s already getting you going.”

“Sh-Shut up.” He internally curses himself for agreeing to be naked, because of course his dick is betraying him and already hardening just from the sight of Arthur in his hoodie.

Arthur’s smile fades and he licks his lips. He reaches for a plastic bag he left sitting on the bed beside him, from which he retrieves a bottle of lube. He pours a small amount in his hand and reaches for his cock, stroking it slowly while Alfred watches.

Alfred also begins to regret agreeing to be tied up, because watching Arthur stroke himself to a full erection is turning him on much more than he thought, and the fact that he can’t do anything about it is maddening. He swallows, trying to relieve the dryness in his throat with little success.

“Nnnn…Alfred,” Arthur says, his eyes sliding shut. He slips his free hand under the hoodie, leaving Alfred only able to imagine that Arthur is also pinching his nipples or otherwise groping his own chest. Just the thought makes sweat start to bead on his forehead.

It would be a lie to say that Alfred hasn’t imagined something like this—Arthur’s cheeks flushed, his mouth slightly open as he pants and moans, using his own hands to stroke his cock and whatever he’s doing under that hoodie. It’s both the hottest thing he’s ever seen and the most frustrating. His own cock is painfully hard, and he squirms in his seat.

“Arthur—” It’s all he can get out of his very dry throat, but it’s enough to grab Arthur’s attention.

Arthur’s eyes open, just enough that Alfred can see the dark come hither look in his half-lidded eyes. 

Alfred abandons all pretense of self-control, and he watches Arthur with an open mouth. Arthur closes his mouth and his lips curl up into a small smirk. He retracts both of his hands and reaches for the bottle of lube again, but instead of stroking his cock, he starts fingering his ass, which makes Alfred squirm even more.

“H-Hey Arthur, I think you proved your point, can we just—”

Arthur interrupts him with a loud moan, and Alfred whimpers. He needs some sort of friction—some sort of relief, because Arthur’s eyebrows are knotting together and he keeps letting out small noises while he finger fucks himself, and everything is making his straining cock even more painfully hard.

“ _Alfred_ , mmm...” 

Alfred flexes his wrists again, trying to loosen the rope tying him to the chair. If he could just get loose, he has the feeling Arthur wouldn’t mind if his self-loving session was interrupted so Alfred could fuck him instead, but the rope holds fast.

“Arthur, come on, let me go.”

Instead of granting his request, Arthur gives him an open-mouthed smile and pulls the plastic bag closer to himself. Alfred’s not sure what he was expecting Arthur to retrieve from the bag, but what Arthur pulls out is something he never would have imagined either of them using—he can only describe it as a bright pink jelly cock.

Arthur’s grin is mischievous, but he doesn’t waste any time dawdling. He pulls his fingers out of his ass and lines up the dildo instead, which he pushes slowly inside himself. He turns so that Alfred can see everything, including when Arthur turns something at the base of the dildo and shivers immediately after. It’s a vibrator too, Alfred realizes.

For a brief moment Alfred is afraid that the vibrator will get Arthur off better than he can, but his arousal wins out over his insecurities, and he watches, panting, as Arthur fucks himself with the vibrator.

He’s vaguely aware of rational thought starting to give way to a repeating thought of how he wants to somehow tear through the rope and fuck Arthur into the mattress until Arthur forgets about anything else but him. If he doesn’t explode from frustration first, he might have to do just that.

On the bed, Arthur writhes and moans, his face fully flushed and damp with sweat. He bites his lip as he works the vibrator in and out of his ass, his eyebrows knotting over his closed eyes. Alfred’s mouth is very dry, but he can’t bring himself to close it long enough to wet it again.

Arthur reaches down and turns the vibrator up a notch. His thighs quiver, his toes curl and his mouth falls open in a silent gasp.

“Ahh…Alfred, _please_ …”

Something in Alfred snaps and he inhales sharply. Arthur’s birthday request be damned, he starts to struggle against the ropes, making the chair start to teeter.

“Arthur, I—fuck, let me fuck you.” When Arthur moans again, Alfred struggles even more. “ _Please let me fuck you_.”

When he gets no response except more moaning, he thrashes enough that the chair tips over. He only takes a moment to swear before he realizes that at least one of his hands is loose. His eyes widen and he pulls the other one free.

There is a brief moment when their eyes meet just before Alfred throws himself on Arthur and starts kissing him. Arthur’s hands abandon the vibrator to tangle in Alfred’s hair instead. Alfred growls his frustration against Arthur’s lips.

“You made sure I’d get loose somehow, didn’t you?”

Arthur says nothing, but he _smirks_ into their kiss, confirming Alfred’s suspicions. Alfred pulls back and scowls down at Arthur, whose pleased expression would be more infuriating if Alfred wasn’t so painfully aroused.

“You lasted longer than I thought,” Arthur says with a laugh. 

Alfred’s scowl deepens. He gropes around for the bottle of lube Arthur abandoned earlier. “Hope you know I’m going to fuck you then. Where’s that lube?”

“Don’t bother, just—nnngghhh…”

Alfred cuts off Arthur’s protest by pulling the vibrator out of his ass. He coats his cock in the lube and starts to push inside of Arthur instead. “The real thing’s better, isn’t it? My dick versus that pink thing?”

“Ugh, shut up. Nothing compares to you.” Arthur’s nails dig into Alfred’s back and he frowns. “Come on, I didn’t get you frustrated for nothing.”

“Ha ha, now who’s frustrated?” 

But he’s more than happy to comply, and they both moan as Alfred starts to thrust into Arthur. After a few moments, Arthur stops him, but Alfred doesn’t have the chance to question before Arthur rolls them over so he’s on top. He starts to ride Alfred’s cock, making Alfred’s eyes roll back in his head. He lifts trembling hands to grasp Arthur’s hips, since Arthur is setting the pace he wants. Although Arthur in his hoodie riding his cock is a very hot sight, he’s not sure that he likes how fast Arthur is going.

“Nnn, Arthur—slow down a little.”

Arthur shakes his head, though with his head bowed, all Alfred can see are his damp bangs obscuring his eyes. Alfred squeezes Arthur’s hips and pulls out, stopping him. He ignores Arthur’s protests and rolls them over again so he’s back on top. He grabs one of Arthur’s legs and props it over his shoulder before he thrusts back in. When Arthur gasps and clutches at the sheets, Alfred smiles to himself. 

While Arthur writhes and moans and rocks back against him, Alfred kisses whatever skin he can reach, making Arthur hiss out mixed curses and encouragements. Just as Arthur’s leg starts to quiver, Alfred wraps his free hand around Arthur’s cock, and then Arthur is coming hard into his hand. Alfred tilts his head, kissing Arthur’s leg before he follows, thrusting as deep in Arthur as he can as he comes. He collapses on top of Arthur after, who lifts a hand to stroke his hair.

“Aren’t you hot with that on?” Alfred asks, gesturing to the hoodie Arthur is still wearing.

“It’s fine. It might get you going again sooner if I keep it on.”

Alfred can hear the smile in Arthur’s voice and it makes him blush. “Yeah, well…that was an…interesting choice of present. Getting me all hot and bothered like that so I’d jump you.”

Arthur is quiet for a moment, but then he sits up and pushes Alfred down onto the bed. “Oh, don’t worry. I fully expect you to return the favor sometime, too.”

Alfred blinks then furrows his brow. “I…what?”

Arthur smiles then lowers his head to rest against Alfred’s chest. “You know. Get a vibrator and masturbate in front of me until I’m begging you to let me fuck you. Or maybe you’ll let me use the vibrator on you? I’m flexible.”

As Arthur snuggles against him, Alfred isn’t sure if he’s down with that idea. Even so, he pulls Arthur into his arms and kisses the top of his head.

“…happy birthday, sweatheart.”


	14. Marital Bliss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm realizing as I upload these that I wrote an obnoxious number of fics for this 'verse lol

At the end of the day, all Arthur wants is to settle down with a cup of tea, if not something much stronger. He curses the damnably long pathway up to the porch and house, where Alfred is idly swinging on the wicker swing. When he sees Arthur, he perks up and waves.

“Hey, sweetheart!”

Arthur grunts and shuffles past, but pauses when he sees the beer in Alfred’s hand. “Are there more of those?”

“In the fridge.” Alfred grins at him, and Arthur grunts in affirmation. 

Inside the house, Arthur dumps his bag on the floor and throws his suit jacket on the first chair he sees. He’ll worry about cleanliness later. He grabs a bottle of beer and nearly breaks the bottle opener in his desperation to get it open, and then he heads back outside.

The air is slightly humid from the onset of spring, but a cool breeze feels good on his face. He runs a hand through his hair and then loosens his tie as he takes a seat next to Alfred on the swing. Alfred reaches over and ruffles his hair.

“Rough day?”

“Fucking hell. A student propositioned me. Honestly, I thought that only happened in bad porn.”

“Ha ha, can’t say I blame her…or him.” Alfred grins in response to the dirty look Arthur gives him and leans back, resting his arm on the back of the swing behind Arthur. “Do you want me to show up in class one day? We can have sex on the nearest flat surface so no student will get the idea that you’re available because you’re already married to this hot piece of ass.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would.”

“Please don’t.”

“Ha ha ha.”

The following silence is a comfortable one, allowing Arthur to sip his beer and let the cool evening breeze and the close proximity of Alfred calm him. This is everything so-called “marital bliss” is cracked up to be. He starts to lean against Alfred and close his eyes, content where he is.

Then, of course, Alfred has to speak up and the magic spell is broken. 

“That sounds like a good roleplay, though. Wanna try it? I’ll be your student and you be the professor and I’ll suck you off for an A on the big Shakespeare test.”

“Oh fuck no. I don’t want to be reminded of that when I’m having sex with _you_.” Arthur opens his eyes and considers it for a moment. “Besides, I’d take the blowjob and still give you an F.”

“Ouch. That’s cold, sweetheart.”

“I never claimed to be a _nice_ professor.”

“You gonna want a blowjob anyway? A ‘you had a bad day and your amazing husband wants to make you feel better’ blowjob not a ‘creepy roleplay’ blowjob?”

“Mm. Maybe. For now let’s just stay here.”

Alfred nods and kisses his forehead. The arm that was resting on the back of the swing falls around his shoulders and pulls him close. Arthur tucks his face against Alfred’s neck and closes his eyes, all too happy to let another comfortable silence fall upon them.


	15. Argument

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is mildly NSFW.

“Are you going to sulk the entire fucking way home?”

Arthur doesn’t look away from the window, rather his scowl just deepens. Outside, the lights of the other cars are a blur in the dark and rain. He scoffs. “If I’d known you were going to bring me along just to make a fool of me, I wouldn’t have agreed in the first place.”

The car lurches out of the lane and then back, making Arthur hit his head against the window. Alfred lets out a bark of a laugh. “Oh yeah, because it’s _my_ fault you have no fucking social skills. Well, that clears it up! Thanks, Arthur!”

That’s enough for Arthur to finally whip around and glare at Alfred, who is gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles. “Oh, fuck you.”

Alfred also whips around to glare at him and his nostrils flare. “Fuck yourself. God, you’re such a pain in the—”

A horn interrupts them and Alfred gasps, rapidly turning the steering wheel to avoid crashing into the semi-truck beside them. Arthur grips at whatever he can reach as they slip and swerve along the wet road, barely dodging other traffic in the process. They finally screech to a halt, and through the windshield wipers, Arthur can see the guard rail. They both sit in silence except for their panting. Arthur finally lowers his shaking hands and the fear is replaced with anger.

“Are you fucking insane?! You almost killed—”

Arthur stops short when he gets a look at Alfred’s face, which is pale. Alfred looks at him with wide, almost desperate eyes. Alfred takes a shuddering breath and releases the steering wheel.

“You all right, sweetheart?” His voice quivers and breaks off in a choke.

Arthur swallows hard and nods mutely. Alfred nods back at him and with a shuddering breath he lifts his hands to the steering wheel again. He closes his eyes for a moment and then they start off for home again at a much slower pace.

* * *

Arthur grunts, having trouble catching his breath with how close Alfred is holding him, how fast Alfred is thrusting into him. Alfred kisses him, and it’s wet and desperate. They’re both quick to finish at that rate, but Alfred stays in place, with Arthur still firmly wrapped in his arms. Arthur tries to catch his breath, but he flinches when he hears Alfred sniffle.

“Alfred?” He lifts a hand to try to brush Alfred’s hair out of his eyes, but Alfred shakes his head.

“I just…for a second there, I thought that was it. The last thing we would’ve done together was argue. The last things I would’ve said to you were so fucking horrible and...shit…”

He trails off and rests his head against Arthur’s shoulder. Arthur lifts a hand to run through Alfred’s hair, and adjusts himself as best he can.


	16. Collection (NSFW)

It’s not as though he intentionally keeps his collection of dildos and vibrators a secret. Should Alfred ask about it, Arthur would freely admit that he masturbates frequently when Alfred is away. That he’s fucked himself often with his collection of dildos, even (and especially) shortly after they’ve finished with one of their Skype calls. That he’s watched the sex tapes they’ve made so many times that he’s amazed the files still even play anymore. 

Perhaps the reason he keeps his collection tucked away where Alfred is unlikely to find it is because, despite there existing longer and thicker dildos or those with stronger vibration or other more satisfying ways of getting himself off without Alfred, he’s selected his collection to mimic the length and girth of Alfred’s cock as best he can with a piece of pink jelly rubber. 

But Alfred never asks and Arthur never brings it up, so it’s not an admission he has to make.

Which is why he’s unsure how to react when Alfred approaches him in the garden one day, holding an all-too-familiar box in his hand.

He sits up into a kneeling position, pushing the brim of his straw hat back so he can look directly at Alfred. There's no need to pretend, after all. He nods at Alfred, who nods back and holds up the box.

“Quite the collection.”

“It is. I’ve been building it up for quite a while now.”

“Ah.”

“Mm.”

Nothing more is said after that, but Arthur swallows, waiting for the further inquiries. Why he has so many, how often he uses them, why they are all very similar to Alfred’s cock…

“So…”

Arthur tenses slightly, prepared to explain himself. Alfred’s expression is unreadable, which is slightly worrying when he’s usually the type to wear his heart on his sleeve.

“…you gonna come inside so I can use one of these on you?”

“…what?”

“Inside. Sex. Yes?”

It’s then that Arthur notes the strain in Alfred’s voice, but all he can do is stare dumbly for a moment, because he honestly can’t parse that Alfred would find his dildos and not even be the slightly bit curious about them. Beyond wanting sex, that is. Desperately, it seems.

He finally stands and brushes the dirt off of his garden trousers, and when he looks up at Alfred he finally has a good view of the wild look in Alfred’s eyes, which renders him speechless again for a moment.

“All…all right, ye—wha?!”

He doesn’t finish the rest of his agreement before Alfred sweeps him up and throws him over his shoulder. Arthur’s straw hat flies off his head and drifts to the ground to be forgotten as Alfred jogs into the house. Once Arthur gets over the initial daze of being so quickly scooped up, he starts to squirm.

“Alfred, put me down! I can walk just fine!”

Alfred ignores him, and it’s not until they’re in the living room that Alfred puts him down. Rather, he throws Arthur onto the sofa and climbs over him. For a moment they stare at each other, and the way Alfred is panting slightly makes Arthur lean up to kiss him, but Alfred pulls away. He holds up the box again and swallows.

“So which one’s your favorite?”

Arthur blinks, still a little dazed at how rapidly this has escalated and frustrated at being denied a kiss and he frowns. “What?”

“You’ve got a lot of these. Which one is your favorite?”

“I don’t…have a favorite.” It’s not a lie. Not really. Alfred is so close to him, though, pressed up against him that it’s making him dizzy for a different reason. Between that and Alfred’s earlier promise of sex, Arthur’s cock is getting very, very hard very quickly. He wants… _needs_ to be fucked by something, dildo or otherwise.

Alfred’s eyes narrow, but he sits up and starts to rummage in the box. He finally pulls out a purple dildo, which Arthur had selected for its veiny texture. As Alfred holds it up, Arthur can’t help but blush, and he never feels any sort of shame about this kind of thing. 

Seemingly satisfied, Alfred climbs off him completely and kneels on the floor next to him. He sets the box down and reaches for a bottle of lube he must have placed there before he came out. He holds out the bottle and the dildo.

“Show me what you do.”

This is rather the opposite of other such sexual ventures, where Arthur has had to goad Alfred into agreeing to use toys like the purple dildo he’s holding out during sex, as, though Alfred has revealed many kinks over the years, he prefers that their own cocks be in play first and foremost.

Still, Arthur takes both items from Alfred, temporarily setting the dildo aside to remove his trousers and underwear and then use the lube. He watches Alfred while he stretches himself, his gaze occasionally flickering to the crotch of Alfred’s trousers, pleased to see Alfred’s erection tenting there.

He withdraws his fingers and grabs the dildo, once again locking his gaze with Alfred’s as he pushes the dildo into himself, exaggerating the effect to tease Alfred as Alfred had teased him. His eyelashes flutter and he moans softly, and he rolls his eyes back before closing them as he doesn’t bother waiting before he fucks himself.

Had this been like his other solo playtimes with his dildos, he would have kept his eyes closed and conjured up a fantasy of Alfred fucking him, first slowly and then building up his pace while whispering lovely and dirty and sweet things into his ear. Since Alfred is right next to him, he doesn’t bother with pretense and thrusts the dildo in and out of his ass at a fast, rough pace. He groans and hums in pleasure, and he’s just about to let out a loud moan when a hand closes over his. His eyes snap open.

Alfred is leaning over him, his hand moving Arthur’s out of the way before he grabs the dildo. He gives Arthur a small smile before resuming the thrusting. It’s a completely different experience when Alfred is doing it, and Arthur gasps. It’s perhaps a testament to how often they’ve had sex that Alfred hits his prostate dead on right away, and Arthur lets out a small whimper as he fists his hands in the sofa cushions.

Above him, Alfred is watching him with such intensity that it too goes straight to Arthur’s groin. Alfred licks his lips.

“These dildos are all the same size.”

Arthur closes his mouth at that, but his silence is answered with Alfred stopping the thrusting motions. Arthur curses and throws his head back.

“They’re almost the same size as you.”

That seems to be enough for Alfred, because he picks up where he left off. Arthur half groans and half sighs in relief as he starts to try to thrust his hips down to meet the dildo.

“Oh? Do you think about me when you’re using them?”

Arthur pointedly avoids Alfred’s gaze and closes his eyes. “What do you think?”

“Do you?”

He opens his eyes again, looking straight into Alfred’s eyes. “…always. Always, always.”

Then Alfred’s free hand closes around his cock and Arthur arches up off the sofa. It’s too much now. Too much friction and stimulation and yet with Alfred right there it’s not nearly enough. 

“I want you.”

“You have me.”

“No…Damn it, no. I want your cock.” He must look absolutely desperate, but at this point he doesn’t care.

Neither does Alfred, it seems, because he pulls the dildo out. He haphazardly shucks off his trousers and boxers and slicks up his cock with more lube, but then he’s thrusting into Arthur, who lets out an utterly shameless moan in his relief. Alfred’s pace is immediately frantic, but Arthur wouldn’t have accepted anything less after being fucked so thoroughly with his own dildo. He wraps his arms and legs around Alfred, pulling him down to finally— _finally!_ —kiss him.

This, he thinks, there is no replacement for this. He can buy himself any number of dildos and vibrators meant to match Alfred’s cock, but there will never be a replacement for the real thing. For the heat of Alfred’s cock, the force behind his thrusts, that sweat-slick body sliding against his, that hot tongue in his mouth, those rough hands holding his hips in place as his pleasure builds and builds.

His orgasm actually catches him off guard, but he’s still aware of Alfred thrusting rapidly into him, bracing one hand against the back of the sofa as he grunts and rocks his hips, and then Alfred is coming inside him and Arthur sighs, waiting for Alfred to ride it out before pulling him down for another kiss.

In the comfortable afterglow, Arthur can pet Alfred’s hair and kiss his face and love him, love him, _love him_ , and not care that he abandoned his roses to have sex on the sofa in the middle of the afternoon because Alfred found his not-so-secret dildo collection.

They lie in easy silence for some time, content like that until Arthur realizes that Alfred is still inside him, and that presents an oh so tempting opportunity he can’t possibly resist. He rolls his hips down on Alfred’s cock, feeling it harden again inside him, and with that approval he maneuvers them so he’s on top of Alfred this time, straddling his hips. Alfred’s hands go up to hold him in place and Arthur smiles.

“Oh, I love your cock.”

“Ha…just my cock?”

“Oh, don’t be an idiot, Alfred. You know I love you, the whole package, but right now…” He grinds his ass down onto Alfred’s cock, making Alfred hiss through his teeth. “Right now, I’m more interested in _this_ package.”

Later he will have to thoroughly explain his dildo collection to Alfred, but for now riding the real thing— _loving_ the real thing—is all that matters.


	17. Put on a Happy Face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you're not familiar with the [titular song](https://youtu.be/Ipx6Uzs5t74) from _Bye Bye Birdie_. :D

If Arthur is honest, he doesn’t mind being old, most especially because he has an excuse for being grumpy all the time. He can sit around grousing about everything and no one questions it or bothers him.

Well, no one except Alfred, that is. Alfred, who is still sunshine personified even in his 70s. Some days Arthur really needs that, other days he would rather be a grouch and be left to his grumbling.

Today is one of such days, and he enjoys the last bits of sun of the day on his face as he sits on the porch with his eyes closed—nothing but peace and quiet and his less than stellar mood. It’s wonderful.

“Grey skies are gonna clear up, put on a happy face!”

Arthur stiffens and cracks open one eye to see Alfred on the grass in front of the porch, dancing a small jig and singing that infernal song. He hopes that his not-so-subtle glare will be enough to stop Alfred.

It isn’t, of course.

“Take off the gloomy mask of tragedy, it’s not your style...” Alfred has the decency to look a little sheepish when he sings that line, but he presses on anyway. “You’ll look so good that you’ll be glad you decided to smile!”

Arthur opens both of his eyes then and lets out a very weary sigh. Alfred ignores him and continues to dance awkwardly on the lawn.

“And spread sunshine all over the place, just put on a happy face!”

“Alfred!”

Alfred finally stops and cups a hand around his ear, leaning in Arthur’s direction.

“Oh, what’s that? I just heard the voice of an angel!”

Arthur rolls his eyes and sighs again. “Oh, please. That didn’t work when we were 20 and it won’t work now.”

The remark doesn’t make Alfred’s smile fade in the slightest. Rather, he walks up the steps and leans on the porch railing. “Aww, come on! You’re too cute to be so grumpy all the time.”

Arthur grunts and leans back in his chair, closing his eyes again. “I’m an old man. I _earned_ the right to be grumpy all the time, thank you.”

Silence follows, and it stretches until it becomes unsettling. Finally, Arthur has to open his eyes again, and he jerks slightly when Alfred is kneeling right in front of him. Alfred produces a bouquet of daisies from behind his back and takes one of Arthur’s hands in his free one. He places a gentle kiss on the back of Arthur’s hand and smiles.

“But you’re still so gorgeous when you smile, sweetheart.”

And damn it, _damn it_ , he is far, _far_ too old for this, but Arthur finds himself blushing as he takes the daisies. 

Even more to his dismay, as Alfred kisses his hand again, he begins to smile until it matches Alfred’s. 

Secretly, though, it is the far more enjoyable end to the day.


	18. Trousers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for 100 kudos! I think this is only the second of my fics that has reached that point, so yay! :D Have this silliness in exchange.

“Heeeeyyy, sweetheart!”

Such a cheerful tone is _nothing_ to be suspicious about, of course, Arthur thinks to himself with a frown. He looks up from the carefully boiling sauce on the stove to see Alfred holding out a package.

“I brought you a present!”

“Oh? What’s the occasion?” 

Alfred just grins, prompting Arthur to sigh. He turns down the heat on the stove and removes the pan so that he can focus on Alfred’s gift. Inside, underneath several layers of tissue paper, is a pair of trousers. They’re very nice, but it’s still suspicious.

“Trousers, Alfred?”

“You need more stuff to wear, right? Try ‘em on!” Then, before Arthur can comment, Alfred continues. “I’ll finish up dinner!”

When Alfred starts reaching for spices and hums cheerfully to himself, Arthur is left with no choice but to head for the bedroom to change. The trousers are much nicer when he gets a closer look at them, but when he puts them on, they are more than a little form-fitting. They’re practically a second skin. 

Walking back out to the kitchen proves to be an awkward venture, and he clears his throat to get Alfred’s attention.

“They’re very nice, Alfred, but why so tight? Did you forget my size?”

Alfred lowers the spoon in his hand to walk over and then around Arthur, whistling appreciatively. He finally stops in front of Arthur and grins.

“Weeeellll… I was thinking that you have one seriously fine ass and it’s a little unfair that only I get to appreciate just how seriously fine it is. With those tight pants everyone can see how bootylicious you are.”

Several long moments of silent staring pass while Alfred maintains that same grin on his face. Then, with speed that Arthur is impressed with himself by, he removes the trousers and throws them at Alfred’s face.


	19. Here is the Deepest Secret (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is UKUS.
> 
> I've been wanting to post this one since I first uploaded these, but it took me an embarrassingly long time to decipher the vague file names I gave to all of my fics. I figure I'll post one more to make it a nice even twenty fics and then I think that'll be it for this particular collection. :)
> 
> There is an excerpt of a poem by E. E. Cummings used here.

Arthur grits his teeth as he finishes tying Alfred’s hands to the headboard. He stares down at Alfred, who flexes his wrists and smiles.

“Good?” Arthur asks, still hesitant despite Alfred’s smile.

“Awesome.” Alfred flashes a thumbs up, which Arthur briefly looks at before he turns his attention back to Alfred.

“No need for fancy words or signals, if you need to stop then say so or…struggle, if that’s what it takes.” He doesn’t like the idea of Alfred needing to struggle, and he frowns. 

Alfred just grins at him, though, shrugging his shoulders as best he can with his hands bound above his head. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, sweetheart. I think as long as you’re touching me, I won’t start freaking out or anything.”

Arthur’s frown deepens, but rather than argue the point, he sighs and bends down to kiss Alfred. “I’ll still be watching.”

Alfred’s eyes brighten just before Arthur covers them with a blindfold. After another moment’s hesitation, he also covers Alfred’s ears with soundproof headphones. It’s the same pair of headphones he uses for flights so he doesn’t panic, so he knows Alfred won’t be able to hear anything. He sits back, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath to steel himself.

When he opens his eyes again, he places a hand on Alfred’s cheek to stroke it and leans forward to kiss the other cheek. Alfred’s mouth opens when Arthur kisses the corner of it, giving him the opportunity to slip his tongue into Alfred’s mouth. It is a bit of selfish indulgence, enjoying the feel of Alfred’s tongue against his and the way their breath mingles. He nips Alfred’s bottom lip when he pulls away and moves his attentions to Alfred’s neck. Alfred inhales deeply, his entire body curling up and then relaxing as he hisses out a soft curse. Arthur eases back, noting Alfred’s frown and furrowed brow.

“That face doesn’t suit you, precious,” Arthur says, reaching out to smooth Alfred’s brow with his fingers. Alfred wrinkles his nose, but his expression relaxes, making Arthur chuckle to himself.

He knows he agreed to this, but looking at Alfred’s naked body, free of scars or any other unsightly marks, he feels a little out of sorts. 

He lets his fingers lightly drag across Alfred’s chest, making Alfred shiver and squirm, and he smiles. Such power he has over Alfred, especially at that moment with Alfred’s hands bound and his senses dulled. It would be so easy to abuse that power—so very easy.

Instead, he presses his lips where his fingers were, and he trails kisses and soft touches along Alfred’s chest and stomach, pausing only to occasionally lick lines that make Alfred arch and make soft sounds that are part encouragement and part curse. Alfred’s cock is hard when Arthur closes his hand around it, pressing his thumb to the head of Alfred’s cock to spread the pre-come and make Alfred whine.

He pulls away for a moment—just a moment—to slick up his fingers and press one of these fingers into Alfred, who stiffens and draws a sharp breath before relaxing into Arthur’s fingers stroking in him and around his cock. That’s perhaps the biggest drawback to this situation—Arthur can’t tell Alfred what he’s going to do to him. He leans over Alfred and mouths his chin in apology.

“I love you,” he says, whispering the words against Alfred’s throat. 

When Alfred swallows he presses kisses to Alfred’s Adam’s apple, pausing to graze his teeth over the skin. Alfred tries to turn into his touch, half choking out what sounds like Arthur’s name, and Arthur can’t help his smirk. 

“Do you like that, Alfred? Me talking against you like this?”

There is no response, of course. Alfred can’t hear him, but he’s still trying to turn his face with little success. Arthur kisses his cheek in response. “Yes yes, I’m here, precious” without words. Indeed, Alfred can’t hear him, so he can say whatever he wants. He could pour his heart out and speak of his love, but he’s also quite distracted with the way Alfred is both grinding down against his finger and bucking up into his hand. He adds another finger as words come to him—words far too sentimental to say when Alfred can hear him, but words that are appropriate nonetheless. He rests his face against Alfred’s, making sure his lips touch Alfred’s cheek.

“I fear no fate, for _you_ are my fate, my sweet.”

He curls his fingers, and Alfred cries out, his feet thrashing a little as he struggles to find purchase on the bed. Arthur smiles, allowing Alfred a moment to shiver and whimper before he continues, now knowing where to stroke his fingers. He swallows hard before he continues, whispering the words against the apple of Alfred’s cheek.

“I want no world, for beautiful you are my world, my true. And it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant.”

He watches Alfred with half-lidded eyes, adding a third finger to give Alfred more stimulation. Alfred is drooling a bit, but Arthur doesn’t want to withdraw either of his hands long enough to wipe it away. He jerks at Alfred’s cock and watches him with what he knows are adoring eyes. 

“And whatever a sun will always sing is you.”

He thinks to continue, but Alfred is already panting and furrowing his brow, so Arthur turns his face and whispers endearments and I love yous against Alfred’s throat until he goes taut and comes hot in his hand. Arthur withdraws the fingers massaging Alfred’s prostate to stroke his own cock in time with Alfred’s instead—quick and hard—until he comes on Alfred’s stomach and Alfred’s cock is limp in his hand.

His head feels hazy, begging him to lie down, warm and sated, but he strokes Alfred’s cheek. Alfred’s hair is damp with sweat and his breathing is heavy, but other than his heaving chest, he is still. Arthur carefully removes the headphones and then blindfold, and Alfred’s eyes are wide and unfocused. Alarmed, Arthur unties his hands and cups his cheek again. 

“Alfred?”

Alfred jolts, seeming to be snapped from a trance, but his eyes focus on Arthur and he relaxes after a moment. It’s only when he smiles that Arthur is satisfied. He kisses his forehead and reaches for the damp cloth he’d already prepared to wipe Alfred’s stomach. He doesn’t accomplish very much before Alfred grabs his arm.

He falls easily into Alfred’s arms and happily yields to the feverish kisses Alfred gives him. His body is warm for more than one reason when Alfred finally snuggles against him, and he closes his eyes.

“You were saying something, right? When you were moving your mouth on my cheek?”

Arthur opens his eyes to stare up at the ceiling, quiet, but he chuckles and shakes his head. He rolls onto his side to face Alfred, smiling. “I’ll tell you some other time.”


	20. Wedding Night (NSFW)

They tumble into the hotel room, laughing against each other’s lips as they kiss and pull each other close. Alfred gropes for the light switch while Arthur tugs on Alfred’s tie, eager to get him into bed.

Alfred starts to squirm away from him, though, as soon as the light flicks on and though Arthur tries to get him back into a particularly wonderful kiss, Alfred breaks away.

“Whoa, check out this bed!”

Alfred drops their shared bag on the floor and sprints across the sizeable suite to jump onto the bed. Arthur crosses the room with the intention of climbing on top of Alfred, but then Alfred rolls up into a seated position.

“And they really included the champagne and everything!” Alfred motions to the champagne and flutes on a nearby table with a nod of his head. “Well, shall we?”

It’s their “wedding night slash honeymoon” as Alfred called it. Until they have the time and money for a proper honeymoon, at least. In the lobby Alfred had asked for the best honeymoon suite complete with champagne and a huge bed. In the midst of his excited requests, Alfred had clasped Arthur’s hand and held it up for anyone who would pay attention with exclamations of “this is my husband, Arthur! We just got married!” Arthur, for his part, had been too giddy with elation to be embarrassed over Alfred’s behavior and had just laughed along with him.

Now, though, even though he sits at the table while Alfred retrieves something from their bag, he’s much more interested in getting Alfred out of his best suit and into that bed to ruin the crisp-looking sheets.

Alfred brings over the box with the piece of cake they hadn’t eaten at dinner and sets it on the table while he pours them both a glass of champagne. Arthur takes a moment to peer around the room, which has various chairs, paintings and a doorway to what looks like a bathroom with an enormous bathtub. 

“All right, sweetheart,” Alfred says, pulling Arthur’s attention back. “Time for us to feed each other a piece of cake.”

Arthur huffs. “You know I don’t like sweets.”

“Yeah, but this is tradition! Come on, open wide..!” 

Alfred holds up a small square of the cake and offers it to Arthur, who opens his mouth for Alfred to place the cake on his tongue. He sucks on Alfred’s fingers, hoping he’ll take the hint, but Alfred just pulls his fingers away while he watches Arthur. Arthur chews the cake slowly, trying not to let his distaste for the cloying sweetness show.

When he’s finished, he picks up the other piece to offer Alfred, who opens his mouth with an exaggerated “aaahh” sound. Just as Alfred is done chewing, Arthur pulls him into another deep kiss. He may not like the taste of cake, but he loves the taste of Alfred’s mouth after he’s eaten a piece of cake. Alfred eagerly kisses him back while he also laughs, which just makes Arthur laugh, too. When Alfred pulls away, he nuzzles Arthur’s nose—an action that Arthur mirrors.

There’s no point in holding back or pretending that he doesn’t want any of the silly little affectionate gestures. Not today.

Alfred lifts up both of the champagne flutes and offers one to Arthur, who doesn’t need to ask to know that Alfred wants their arms linked as they drink. He stares directly into Alfred’s eyes while he takes a sip of the champagne. Alfred sets his flute to the side and regards Arthur with a curious look while he continues to drink. 

“What are you thinking about?”

Arthur smirks and lowers the glass. “I’m thinking that I want my _husband_ to make love to me.”

Alfred’s face brightens into the wide smile Arthur has so enjoyed seeing all day. “Gotta consummate our marriage, eh?”

Arthur laughs. “And I fully expect us to consummate several more times before the night is done.”

He very happily stands with Alfred while they both remove their jackets and belts, and then he wraps him into a close embrace to kiss him lazily. Alfred picks him slightly up off the floor and shuffles over to the bed where they both fall onto it. Any other day it might have bothered him, but now he just snickers and fumbles with the buttons on Alfred’s dress shirt while Alfred does the same to his. The fact that it’s his best shirt is almost forgotten in his desperate need to be skin-to-skin with Alfred, but with some maneuvering they manage to get out of their remaining clothes without any tearing and minimal broken contact.

Arthur supposes he shouldn’t be surprised when Alfred starts to kiss and caress his body, but his mind is at war between lust and love—half wanting to revel in every last one of Alfred’s touches and return them in kind, and the other half just desperate to be fucked. 

He pets Alfred’s hair as Alfred kisses a line down his abdomen, but then suddenly Alfred stops and presses his forehead to Arthur’s stomach while he laughs. Arthur lifts his head.

“Hmm? What is it?” 

“Ha ha, sorry. I don’t know if I can do this. All I want to do is hold you and kiss you.” He grins and crawls up the length of Arthur’s body to kiss him proper.

“You can still kiss me with your cock in me. Get to it.” He smiles anyway, because he shares Alfred’s sentiment—just in a different way.

“Heh, greedy.” 

“In love.” 

Before Alfred can respond, Arthur reaches around him to squeeze his ass and start slowly rocking his hips against Alfred’s, turning whatever Alfred might have said into a broken moan. Alfred rocks back against him, making Arthur’s eyelashes flutter. He lets out his own strangled sound when Alfred reaches between them and starts stroking their cocks together. They rut against each other while Arthur’s head swims, but he eventually grabs Alfred’s hand to stop his motions, wonderful though they are.

“Nn…stop. I want to come with you inside me.”

“Ha…yeah.” 

Alfred’s face is flushed and lovely, and his hair is already a little damp as he pushes it out of his face. He climbs off the bed and nearly trips as he runs to the discarded bag. Arthur lazily strokes his own cock while he watches Alfred rummage around in the bag for the lube, but he releases it to grab onto Alfred and pull him back into another kiss. 

“Hey,” Alfred says as he pulls away and pours some of the lube into his hand.

“Hey yourself.” He rubs Alfred’s arm, jolting only slightly when Alfred pushes a finger into him.

“You’re my husband now.” Alfred’s eyes are warm with affection, so that Arthur can’t resist stroking his face.

“That’s right, and you’re mine.” 

He pulls their faces together so that their noses touch and they grin at each other, mostly taking his mind off the unpleasant business of being stretched. They kiss lazily, tongues tangling, with Arthur occasionally moaning softly whenever Alfred brushes his prostate. 

He’s too desperate to care if he looks foolish for spreading his legs in anticipation when Alfred pulls away from him and slicks up his cock. Then Alfred pushes into him, so the point is moot. Alfred starts off slow with shallow rocking movements of his hips.

This Arthur doesn’t try to rush. His eyelids lower until his eyes are closed and he swallows hard, just enjoying the feeling of Alfred inside of him. He reaches down for his cock, which he strokes slowly in time with Alfred’s slow thrusts.

As Alfred’s pace and force builds, Arthur has to abandon his cock to clutch at the sheets and the pillow, his eyes rolling back as his pleasure also builds. Alfred places one hand beside Arthur’s head on the pillow and holds Arthur’s hip with the other, and Arthur watches him. His hair is damp with sweat and half hanging in his eyes and half sticking to his forehead—even that errant cowlick of his. His mouth is hanging open as he grunts and breathes heavily, and his eyes are steely with focus. His muscles flex with each movement, and he’s beautiful. Arthur swings his legs to wrap around Alfred’s waist and thrusts down onto Alfred’s cock, making him shiver.

He turns his head to the side, seeing the ring on Alfred’s finger that he had placed there himself only hours before. The sight makes little prickles and jolts of pleasure and pure bliss rush through him. Their first time making love as a married couple, he realizes. It must be why his senses are heightened to everything Alfred is doing to him—why he feels he might burst in more way than one. He suddenly has no idea what to do with his own hands—first grabbing Alfred’s arms, then scratching at his back, caressing his face and then finally slipping around the back of his neck to pull him into a sloppy kiss. They buck haphazardly against each other and have to break their kiss so that Arthur can grit his teeth against Alfred’s shoulder as he comes. 

Alfred lifts Arthur’s hips off the bed and thrusts hard into him, his eyebrows knotted in concentration, until he too comes with a short shout. He slowly lowers Arthur’s hips back to the bed and pulls out to fall to the bed beside Arthur and catch his breath.

Despite his own heaving, Arthur turns to the side to pet Alfred’s face and kiss him. Alfred finally kisses him back and they both start laughing again.

“God, I love seeing you like this.”

Arthur hums. “Hmm. Well fucked?”

“Well, yeah, that too. But I mean happy. You have the best smile, you know that?”

It makes Arthur want to frown at Alfred just to spite him, but he finds he can’t bring himself to do so. Instead he pushes up the corners of Alfred’s already smiling mouth into a wider smile.

“No, I think that honor belongs to you, precious.”

“Aaawwww and you’re so cute when you’re being sappy.” Alfred starts nuzzling Arthur’s cheeks. “I love you. I’m so glad I married you.”

“It’s my wedding night, I think I’m permitted a bit of unabashed sappiness.” He gently turns Alfred’s face and nuzzles their noses together. “That said, I love you madly.”

Alfred’s bright smile gets even wider and he falls onto Arthur to pepper him with kisses, while Arthur tries in vain to return them. He finally just chuckles and relishes in the attention. Alfred tucks against his neck, though Arthur can still feel his smile. He pets Alfred’s hair for a moment and then starts to sit up, motioning for Alfred to do the same.

“I think we need to clean up, don’t you? I believe that tub is big enough for both of us.”

Alfred waggles his eyebrows and nearly springs out of the bed. He tugs on Arthur’s hands and they stumble their way to the bathroom, laughing and kissing all the while.

While Arthur knows he’ll want more later, as he lies in the tub with his back against Alfred’s chest and his nose tucked under Alfred’s chin, he is exactly where he wants to be.


	21. Two Steps Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This deals with Arthur being triggered (as in an actual trigger, not the joke the word has become), just to warn you.

Reading over assignments is usually one of the most relaxing parts of Arthur’s day, rather than being something he dreads. Armed with a cup of tea, he sits by the window that overlooks his garden and places the neat pile of papers onto his desk.

This particular assignment for his poetry class was for his students to write a free verse poem about whatever they wanted. He sips on his tea as he reads poem after poem—some better than others, some making him cringe, with others he sets aside to read again later.

He starts to hum to himself and continues to sip his tea as he starts on another poem, but as he reads it he lowers the teacup and falls quiet. 

As he reads it, the hairs on the back of his neck start to stand up, and he feels a cold sweat starting to break out on his forehead as thoughts and feelings he thought he’d put behind him come back and make him feel like he’s choking.

With a sharp gasp, Arthur stands up, dropping the teacup on the floor to be ignored, and he starts panting. His entire body trembles, so that he falls to his knees and stares at the carpet, trying to get his breathing under control. 

He’s supposed to be over this. All that work, all those years seeing a therapist to the point where he only goes a couple times a year at most, and it all comes undone with one poem. 

He blinks rapidly, willing himself to calm down. He put up with the real thing as a child, he can handle a few bad memories as an adult. He manages to calm his breathing, but he still trembles as he climbs to his feet. There is only one thing he can think of to do.

His laptop is still on when he stumbles back over to his chair, and he quickly writes Alfred an email.

“Alfred, are you available?”

For a moment he hesitates, but then he continues.

“Please, I need to talk.”

He opens Skype as soon as he sends the email, but there’s no telling if Alfred will respond, or rather _when_ he’ll respond. Alfred being a world away means that his emails are answered at varying times of the day, and that even their planned Skype calls have to be arranged well in advance.

This one time, though, Arthur hopes that _somehow_ Alfred will have some downtime and check his email. Just this one time.

He doesn’t have time to wait, either, but just as he’s about to give up on Alfred and see if he can somehow get a hold of his therapist instead, the alert window telling him that Alfred has signed on pops up. A text window pops up shortly after.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

Arthur doesn’t respond and instead initiates a call, with a video of Alfred appearing almost as soon as he sends the request.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” 

Arthur shakes his head, and just seeing Alfred makes the trembling worse. He can’t touch Alfred and seek comfort in his close proximity, so perhaps this was a bad idea. He swallows hard and speaks slowly.

“Talk to me. About anything.”

Alfred blinks, but nods. “All…all right, uh… I took some pictures for you! And uh…every time we’re over the US at night, I try to look for where you are. I like to think that one of those lights that’s still on is you staying up late because you found a book you couldn’t put down. But… Arthur, what’s going on?”

“Please. Please just keep talking.”

Alfred hesitates, but he continues to talk about the work he’s been doing, the things he’s seen, and how much he misses Arthur. For the most part, Arthur keeps his eyes closed and just listens to Alfred’s voice, so that he can pretend Alfred really is next to him. Finally, the trembling stops and he opens his eyes. Alfred watches him with a concerned face.

“Can I ask you what’s wrong now?”

Arthur sighs. “A student wrote a poem about… Well. It made me remember things it took a very long time to work past.”

“…wish I could hug you and kiss you, but…” Alfred scratches his head. “Call your doctor when you can?”

“Yes…I was planning to try that, but then you came on.” Arthur lets out another deep sigh, but then he manages a smile. “Thank you for helping me to calm down, Alfred.”

“Anytime, sweetheart. You know I love you.”

Arthur’s smile widens, which earns him a smile in return from Alfred. “Do you have any time left to have a regular conversation, by chance?”

“…I think I can manage that.”

As Alfred starts to talk to him again, Arthur reaches over to the poem still sitting on top of the desk and carefully puts it underneath the stack of other papers.


	22. Mr. Jones

“Why hello there, Mr. Jones.”

Arthur looks up as Alfred steps out onto the balcony with him and shakes his head.

“You’re never going to get tired of that, are you?”

“Not one bit, Mr. Jones. Besides, it sounds really good, doesn’t it?”

Alfred flops down onto one of the chairs next to him, and Arthur puts out his cigarette.

“I have no complaints being Arthur Jones, no.” He tries to fight his smile as Alfred grins at him, and coughs into his fist just as he feels his mouth start to twitch. “But this is something out of one of those terrible romance stories.”

“We just got married! Of course we’re like something out of a cheesy romance story!” Alfred accentuates that point by grabbing one of Arthur’s hands and kissing the back of it. “But here’s my problem… How do we tell each other apart? You’re the sexy Mr. Jones and I’m the cute one? Oh, but wait. You’re the cute one, too.”

There’s a mischievous glint in Alfred’s eyes, which makes Arthur half scoff and half snort. “We’re already married, Alfred. There’s no need for the seduction attempts.”

“Whatever. Even when we’re old, wrinkly men I’m still going to try to seduce you.”

“Then I’m afraid you’re going to have to work a bit harder… _Mr. Jones_.”

Just as Alfred opens his mouth to reply, though, Arthur leans over to silence him with a kiss.


	23. I Want to Hold Your Hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of the relatively rare fics I wrote that takes place in the interim between them "getting together" and them moving in together. I should have done/should do more of this, because awkward turtle teenagers are fun. :'D

Arthur is already on his third cigarette when Alfred stops chattering away about nothing in particular, and none of them have done anything to soothe Arthur’s frayed nerves. 

At this point it’s probably expected that he’ll say something, since Alfred has gone quiet, which only aggravates Arthur’s considerable stress. Now it will become clear that behind the apathetic delinquent façade is a fantastically boring individual. What is he supposed to do?

‘Alfred, would you like to discuss the symbolism in Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland?’

If Alfred didn’t flat out laugh at him, he’d probably retract his love confession. 

It’s not as though Arthur can pretend he doesn’t notice any of this anymore, either. Everything within him _aches_ with love for Alfred. It would be a fool’s errand to pretend it’s not there.

As he sits stewing in his thoughts, he doesn’t notice Alfred getting closer until Alfred is sitting so close to him that their thighs are nearly touching. Arthur jolts in surprise and drops his cigarette. Alfred gives him a sheepish smile.

“Hey, Arthur?”

Arthur swallows the thick lump in his throat and averts his gaze. “Yes..?”

“Can you hold something for me?”

“Ah…all right.”

Alfred holds out his hand, and for a few moments Arthur stares at it as he waits for whatever it is that Alfred wants him to hold to appear. 

When nothing else happens, Arthur looks up in confusion at Alfred’s face. Alfred has a lopsided smile and slightly pink cheeks, and that’s when it finally hits Arthur. 

Of all the cheesy and cliché ways to get them to hold hands.

Arthur snorts, and he coughs in an attempt to hide it, but it’s a vain effort. He’s laughing so much he doubles over and tears spring to his eyes. 

As sanity returns and he begins to regain his composure, he realizes that Alfred might have been hurt by him laughing. He turns back to Alfred, still hiccupping and chuckling slightly, and Alfred has a curious look on his face. Arthur sobers instantly and feels a bit of the blood drain from his face.

“I’m sorry, Alfred. I didn’t mean to offend—”

Alfred shakes his head wildly, the same look on his face when he stops. “No no, it’s not that. It’s just…I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh before. It’s…wow.”

As Alfred stares at him in what he now assumes to be awe, Arthur wonders if the cases of spontaneous human combustion he read about were true, because he’s fairly certain that his face just set on fire.

He turns away, blustering random excuses for his behavior and wishing for the earth to open up and swallow him, when suddenly there are hands on his face, and he freezes as Alfred kisses him.

After a moment of a one-sided kiss, he relaxes and kisses back. It’s so soft, so sweet, and it hurts like hell at the same time that it feels better than anything he’s ever experienced in his life. All of those feelings are only accentuated by Alfred’s hands on his face, which hold him in the kiss until Alfred pulls away.

“I’m sorry, you just looked so… I just really wanted to kiss you.”

Alfred pulls away completely and scoots over a bit, and he clears his throat a few times.

Arthur sits, slightly dazed, and he wants more than anything to pull Alfred back into another kiss, or maybe to laugh again to see that look on Alfred’s face, or maybe he really does want to be swallowed up by a hole in the earth.

In the end, he pulls out another cigarette, and the motion is enough to get Alfred talking again.

As rattled as he is, he’s also, he can’t deny, feeling downright…warm and fuzzy.

It’s rather nice.


	24. Love is Blind

“You’re just blinded by your love.”

Alfred has heard that more than a few times—it’s often accompanied by a scoff and a roll of Arthur’s eyes. Arthur’s stubborn refusal to accept that he’s a genuinely attractive person is, at times, a source of frustration for Alfred.

It’s not so much the frustration as it is the heavy feeling in his heart when he sees Arthur pulling on long-sleeve shirts and pants, even in the middle of a summer heat wave, or how Arthur still sometimes shrinks away from Alfred’s appreciative gazes during sex. 

He can’t _make_ Arthur find himself attractive, of course—Arthur has to do that for himself—but, setting aside their emotional connection, there is no denying Alfred’s strong physical attraction to Arthur.

When Arthur says his love is blind…Yes, he _is_ blinded by his love, but not in the way Arthur thinks. If he tried to tell Arthur the real reason, Arthur would probably brush it off and call him foolish.

So, just as he lets Arthur work out other things for himself, Alfred doesn’t try to force Arthur to hurry to resolve the problem of his negative body image. That doesn’t stop Alfred, though, from grabbing Arthur from behind and spinning him around just before kissing his cheek and calling him cute.

Getting his face shoved away is always worth it.


	25. Reunion

Arthur waits, wringing his hands and watching the TV monitors that assure him that Alfred’s flight has landed.

_Just_ landed, he tells himself. It’s not as though Alfred will suddenly appear in mere moments. It will take awhile for him to even get off the plane, let alone make his way to baggage claim.

Even so, Arthur bounces up and down on his heels, staring at the monitors and wringing his hands and biting his lip, both eager and terrified.

It could be like when Alfred returned from basic training even more handsome than he was before, and Arthur won’t know what to do with himself. Or perhaps he’ll see Arthur’s face in person and any excitement on his face will fade.

He watches as other people reunite, ranging from firm handshakes between friends to tearful kisses between separated lovers. He likes to think he’ll be somewhere in the middle. A good hug ought to do it.

The monitors now display the carousel number where luggage can be picked up, and Arthur moves a little too quickly to the appropriate carousel, where he waits a careful distance away.

Finally, some passengers appear who make their way over, and Arthur’s heart is pounding somewhere in his throat. He tries to swallow it down, but it’s quite firmly lodged there, pounding away.

Then— _Alfred_. Alfred waving wildly at him as their eyes meet. Alfred smiling so brilliantly and having a maddeningly potent effect on Arthur and his ability to think clearly.

Thus, Arthur is not fully aware of when he starts running or how easily he leaps over a double set of benches, but he is aware of Alfred dropping his carry-on to run at him as well, and perhaps they crash inelegantly into each other, but that doesn’t matter.

Their arms are around each other, hands tangling in each other’s hair, and Arthur is lifted off the floor as they kiss with clumsy desperation. When Alfred tries to pull away, Arthur pulls him back.


	26. Iggy

Alfred dangles a feather in front of Iggy’s face, and Iggy swats at it—not out of play, but out of irritation. When Alfred pulls it away, Iggy licks at his paw then resumes staring out the window. Alfred lifts a hand to scratch between Iggy’s ears, but Iggy squirms out of his way.

Alfred sighs and rests his chin on the cat tree next to Iggy.

“Why won’t you love me?” he asks, trying to give Iggy a doleful look.

Iggy’s only reaction is to swish his tail, and Alfred pouts.

He trudges over to the couch and flops onto it, leaning over to rest his head against Arthur’s shoulder. Arthur, of course, is reading with Hero purring loudly in his lap, and Alfred’s frown deepens.

“Why won’t Iggy love me?”

Arthur doesn’t look up from his book, but he lifts a hand to stroke Alfred’s hair. “He’s a cat.”

“Hero loves you, though.”

“Leave my cat out of this.”

Alfred has to laugh a little, but he tilts his head to stare up at Arthur. “You love me though, right?”

Arthur’s cheeks turn pink and he retracts his hand. “You know the answer to that. Stop fishing for compliments.”

With a sigh, Alfred slides onto the floor and turns on his Xbox. If nothing else he can count on Grand Theft Auto to help him feel better about his rebuffed affections.

At length, Arthur leaves with Hero trailing close behind, and shortly after Alfred hears the light thud of Iggy jumping down from the cat tree he’d been perched on. He doesn’t look over to see what Iggy is doing, as absorbed in the game as he is, but then Iggy takes a small step onto his lap, smelling Alfred as he does, and Alfred freezes.

He watches with his lips quivering in the effort not to smile as Iggy slowly climbs into his lap and settles down, wrapping his tail around himself and closing his eyes. Despite the powerful urge to lift Iggy into his arms and cuddle him, Alfred manages to hold himself back. He lets a wide smile spread onto his face as he carefully maneuvers his controller so Iggy can sleep in his lap.


	27. Bittersweet (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one takes place early on in their relationship, because I had wanted to write a story with absolutely dreadful sex, ha ha. It also acts as a counterpoint to other stories like this, where they've reached a point where it's not just the sex that's improved. :')

“I don't think this is a good idea.”

Alfred's face is full of apprehension, and he starts to move back, but Arthur pulls him into a kiss, unwilling to let him move away. It's only been this way once before, but Arthur doesn't think the first time counts. 

Each time they've had sex, Arthur has topped. Each time, he initiates it. Alfred isn't just that boy he has sex with after school anymore, and he doesn't want Alfred to think that sex is about one person always being in control. Alfred should feel comfortable being more assertive.

Of course, it would be easiest if he could talk about these things with Alfred, but communication isn't exactly their strong point.

So Arthur thought the best course of action would be to initiate sex, but then coax Alfred into topping. Which is why Arthur is underneath Alfred, refusing to let him shy away. 

“I really don't think this is a good idea,” Alfred says, breaking the kiss. His brows are furrowed and his face is full of a mix of concern and fear.

“It's fine,” Arthur replies, and his hands are already in Alfred's shirt, pushing it off his shoulders so he can pull Alfred's bare torso against his. They kiss again, and Arthur keeps his eyes open, watching the way Alfred's eyebrows continue to knot. He takes one of his thumbs and tries to smooth out his brow, and Alfred's eyes open.

As their kiss is broken, Arthur lies back, and he hopes that the look on Alfred's face means that he thinks it's okay to take a little initiative. This part of their relationship shouldn't be so one-sided, and even if Alfred is afraid, things will never improve if he doesn't at least try.

No, things will never really improve if there's no trying involved.

Alfred swallows, but he doesn't pull away this time. Instead, his hands shake slightly as he reaches for Arthur's trousers, undoing the buttons and zipper and pulling them off. Their eyes stay locked on each other the whole time, and Arthur can see Alfred's unease continue to grow as he strips them both bare. Alfred's hands are trembling by the time they're both naked, and he gives Arthur a helpless look. Arthur wonders if it's just Alfred's apprehension that's stopping him, because he knows that Alfred knows what to do next.

Regardless, Arthur takes one of Alfred's and places it on his body, encouraging Alfred to touch him. Alfred's hand shakes against his chest, but he follows through with Arthur's unspoken request. Arthur's eyes close as Alfred's fingers roam over his skin, hesitant at first, but with steadily growing confidence. Kisses eventually join the touches of Alfred's fingers, and Arthur licks his lips, keeping his eyes closed. It may not be entirely satisfying, but the way Alfred is touching him is earnest and loving. No one has ever touched him like that before. There's no denying the way it makes his heart ache.

His eyes snap open right away when he feels Alfred touching his left side, apparently noticing the scar there. Bile fills his mouth and his hand reaches out to grasp Alfred's wrist, stopping him from touching it any further. Alfred has seen him naked many times, so he's bound to have noticed the scar before, but touching it is an entirely different matter. The heavy way Arthur is breathing has nothing to do with arousal.

“Arthur?” The concern in Alfred's voice matches the look on his face, and Arthur is careful to regain his composure. He'll have to do something about that scar. Cover it somehow.

“Condom and lube?” Arthur finally asks, and Alfred looks lost for a moment before he nods.

“A-All right,” Alfred says, and he moves off the bed to fish around for the bottle and box in Arthur's nightstand. Arthur watches him as he grabs the items and climbs back onto the bed. At first Alfred doesn't do anything, as though he's waiting for Arthur to take control from that point on, but Arthur gives him an expectant look, and Alfred's already red cheeks darken.

“Here we go, then,” Alfred says in a shaky voice, and his hands are trembling again as he takes the bottle of lubricant and pours some into his hand. He gives Arthur one last helpless look, which Arthur counters with what he hopes is an encouraging look, and then he rubs the lube between his hands. Arthur leans his head back against the pillow, so as not to pressure Alfred, but he winces when Alfred presses a finger in too quickly.

“Sorry,” Alfred says, and Arthur shakes his head. Discomfort gives way to a sense of panic when Arthur feels Alfred's nail start to scratch against him.

“ _Nails, Alfred_ ,” Arthur says between his teeth, and Alfred stops immediately.

“Sorry, sorry!” But it's clear that his mistakes are only feeding his insecurity, because the way he continues to prepare Arthur is haphazard at best. He adds fingers too soon and doesn't stretch him enough. Arthur's discomfort is enough that he doesn't care when Alfred retracts his fingers. It's Alfred's first time doing this, of course he's going to be terrible.

He sits up when he hears Alfred fumbling with the condom, and when Alfred manages to tear two condoms with his shaking hands, Arthur takes the third out of his fingers and opens it up himself, then hands it to Alfred.

“Leave a little space free at the tip,” he says, and Alfred nods, though he doesn't look sure of himself at all. He manages to roll on the condom without tearing it, however, and Arthur nods his approval before he lies back again.

Arthur begins to regret that he didn't ask Alfred to prepare him better when Alfred starts pushing inside him, because it hurts more than it should. He bites the inside of his cheek to keep from wincing, but he manages to bite hard enough to draw blood when Alfred thrusts in all at once, sending a shock of pain through Arthur's body.

“Fuck, fuck,” Arthur says in a strained voice and he squeezes his eyes shut to will away the pain. They open again when Alfred starts to pull away.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry–-”

“Don't stop. Keep going,” Arthur says, interrupting Alfred. He lies back again, ignoring the pain, and swivels his hips to accommodate Alfred. Alfred's eyelids flutter, and he gives Arthur another helpless look. Arthur swallows, then repeats, “keep going.”

Alfred nods, and he leans over Arthur as he pulls out and thrusts in again, moaning this time.

It occurs to Arthur that he's trapped underneath Alfred, between his arms. He's trapped, and he has to focus to will away his steadily growing panic. It's just Alfred, he tells himself. Just Alfred, who is still hurting him even if he doesn't mean to. The sex is really not going well at all, which isn't what Arthur intended at all. Between the pain and his sense of panic, he wonders if he'll even be able to orgasm.

He doesn't have to worry about any of these things, because Alfred comes on the third thrust. Arthur blinks as Alfred collapses on top of him, and then he pushes Alfred off to the side in his shock and confusion. Alfred takes his breaths in heavy pants, and when the haze of his orgasm fades, Alfred looks so miserable that Arthur has to turn away.

“I'm sorry. That was terrible, I'm sorry,” Alfred says, his tone matching the look on his face. “Do you want me to..?”

Arthur looks at him again, and he sees that Alfred is motioning to the fact that he was never satisfied. Alfred is willing to stroke him off, but with the way his hands are still shaking and how everything has gone thus far, Arthur shakes his head and sits up, swinging his legs off the bed.

“I'll take care of it. Don't forget to properly dispose of that condom,” Arthur says, and ignores Alfred's protests as he heads for the toilet. He shuts the door behind him and then leans over the toilet, bracing one hand against the wall.

As he starts to stroke himself, he imagines that it's Alfred's hand around him instead. It could be Alfred touching him if he goes back to bed, but even if he gives Alfred the chance, he has a feeling he'll never get off. Instead, he closes his eyes and allows himself a fantasy of Alfred behind him, kissing his neck and stroking him as he holds him in his arms.

“Alfred.” His moan echoes off the tiles as he comes into his hand, leaning heavily against his hand still bracing the wall. He knows that it's just a fantasy, and maybe Alfred's fears will keep him from ever improving, and he'll always have to top during sex and take charge of everything in that respect. Their sex life will stay one-sided.

But he also knows that it's foolish to think that Alfred would be confident about sex when he's only ever slept with Arthur and bottomed. He'll improve with time and experience, and Arthur won't let him be discouraged because this time didn't go well.

Alfred is already under the sheets with his back to Arthur when he returns to the room, and Arthur chews on his mangled cheek as he makes his way over to the bed. He climbs under the covers and stares up at the ceiling, then looks over to Alfred's bare back. He should probably say something. That it's okay that the sex was terrible, or not to be discouraged because he'll definitely get better.

When he opens his mouth to speak, the words die in his throat, and he gives up. He ponders sidling up behind Alfred and holding him, but he's afraid to do so and just rolls over and wills himself to fall asleep. 

He'll just have to make sure there's a next time, and that when the next time comes, he'll help Alfred through it.


	28. Jealousy

As it nears the end of the class period, Arthur’s eyes look to the back of the lecture hall, expecting to see Alfred sitting there and grinning despite Arthur’s continuous requests for Alfred to meet him outside. Instead, he sees the usual faces of his students half looking at him and half anxiously looking at the clock. 

He’s not disappointed, of course. He’s relieved that Alfred finally listened to him.

When class ends and he packs up, he’s surprised to find Alfred not too far down the hall from the lecture hall. He’s leaning against the wall, laughing with one of Arthur’s colleagues. As Arthur approaches, Alfred says something to make the woman blush, resulting in a particular grin on Alfred’s face that Arthur is only used to seeing directed at him. Arthur bristles slightly and picks up the pace, clearing his throat when he’s close enough.

Alfred turns to face him, his face brightening when their eyes meet. “Hey, sweetheart!”

Arthur stares at him for a moment and then turns to his colleague and gives her a tense smile. “I suppose you remember my husband?”

She smiles a little too dreamily back at him and stares back at Alfred. “Oh, yes! It was…lovely to speak with you again, Alfred! If you’ll excuse me then…”

She smiles politely at Arthur and brightly at Alfred, then she turns to leave with a slight spring in her step. The whole thing makes Arthur frown and bristle further.

“See ya!” Alfred waves after her, and Arthur starts to stalk off down the hallway towards the exit. Alfred sprints to catch up with him.

“Sorry I didn’t meet you in the room. I just saw her and she looked so frazzled I thought I’d brighten her day a little!”

Arthur tenses and grits his teeth. “You know perfectly well I don’t want you meeting me while I have class. You’re supposed to wait outside.”

Silence follows, but Arthur is aware that he is being stared at. Abruptly, Alfred stops walking, and after a few paces, Arthur also stops and turns to see what Alfred is doing.

Alfred’s eyes are wide and his mouth is open in a half smile. “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

Arthur scoffs and turns to walk again. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Alfred laughs and sprints to catch up with him again. “Ha ha, come on. The only reason I’m in this traumatizing English building is because I have a huge crush on one of the professors.”

Arthur grunts. “You’d best find them then, I suppose.”

Arthur only has a moment to blink before a blur that is Alfred steps in front of him and cups his face. At first Arthur refuses to look Alfred in the eye, but the thumb massaging his cheek is so gentle and Arthur is so weak when it comes to Alfred that eventually he gives into temptation. The moment he does, lips cover his in a soft kiss. Try as he might to remain defiantly grumpy, he feels the tension slip away. Just as he starts to lift his hands to touch Alfred’s face, he remembers where he is and pulls away, blushing hotly.

Alfred chuckles and shoves his hands in his pocket. “I only have eyes for you, sweetheart. You know that.”

Arthur’s cheeks warm up even more and he waves his hands dismissively as he continues to the exit, not trusting himself not to sputter like an idiot. He feels Alfred watching him again, and he has to smile to himself.


	29. Distance

There’s no one around to judge him, but Arthur still glances around the room to make sure no one is watching and then refocuses on the computer screen. It’s a little sad how long he’s been sitting there with the Skype window open, but any attempt to do anything but sit there has proved fruitless.

In between watching the screen, he works on a needlepoint that was meant to be a swan, but is looking more and more like a duck without his full attention on it. Later he’s certain he’ll care, but there’s only one pressing thing he can worry about at the moment.

The instant he sees the window pop up telling him that Alfred is online, he practically breaks the mouse with how quickly he grabs it to start a conversation, but he quickly releases it. No need to appear overly eager, even if he is. He doesn’t have to wait, though, because the second he releases the mouse, Alfred tries to initiate a video chat. Arthur lets out a soft laugh.

Before he okays the chat, he takes a deep breath to make sure he doesn’t look as foolish as he feels and makes sure the webcam is working. After smoothing out his shirt, he starts the chat.

As Alfred comes into view, obviously floating around in space, a wave of desperate longing hits Arthur.

“Hi, sweetheart!”

Arthur has to take a moment to appreciate how Alfred’s face lights up when he says that, how much cheer is in his voice, and just how desperately Arthur has missed seeing him.

“Hello, darling.” 

Alfred’s smile widens, and Arthur also smiles.

“Happy Valentine’s Day! Are you having a good day? Did you get those roses I tried to order? I love you!”

He decides not to mention that his attempt to masturbate with a dildo just made him feel even more miserable, not when Alfred looks so happy and wonderful.

“I’m doing well. Yes, I received them, thank you. How are you? Anything interesting?”

He’ll tell Alfred he loves him, of course. Just not yet. His hands are shaking so much that he puts them under the desk out of view.

“Yeah! I got to see a thunderstorm from this side. It’s amazing! Not that I’d wish one on anyone, but I can’t wait to see a tornado or hurricane, too.”

“That sounds nice.”

“It’s awesome, but I can’t wait to get home and see you again, though.”

Arthur’s already shaking hands begin to tremble violently, and he swallows hard.

_I want to kiss. I want to make love. I want to touch your face and be wrapped up in your arms while you tell me you’re never going to let me go._

He doesn’t say any of these things, no matter how very true all of them are and no matter how much his entire _soul_ aches for Alfred. He just nods weakly and smiles as best he can.

Alfred’s smile fades into a small frown, and for a moment he just floats next to his camera. “Man, I really wish I could kiss you, at least.”

The words hit Arthur like a punch in the stomach. Leave it to Alfred to say what Arthur cannot. He shakes his head and chuckles.

“Soon enough, Alfred.”

“Ha ha, yeah.”

They smile at each other, but then Alfred visibly swallows.

“God, wish I could talk with you longer, but I gotta get back to it.”

Arthur hopes he doesn’t look as distressed as he feels, because his chest is painfully tight. If only he could reach through the computer screen and stroke Alfred’s cheek and kiss away the knot in Alfred’s brow. If only.

“We’ll find time to do this again.”

“Of course! Since it’s Valentine’s Day I just had to see your face for at least a little bit.”

“Thank you for that.”

“Well…” Alfred sighs. “I love you, miss you like crazy, can’t wait to be on the same planet with you again.”

He hopes the fact that his entire body is shaking can be blamed on a poor camera. 

“…I love you, too, precious.” By some miracle his voice doesn’t break.

“Bye, sweetheart…”

Alfred reaches out to presumably switch off his camera, but his hand lingers as he watches Arthur. Arthur has to grip his trousers with white knuckles to keep from reaching out to press his hand to the screen against Alfred’s. 

When Alfred does switch off his camera, Arthur leans back in the chair and gasps. He presses his hands over his eyes and furrows his brow.


	30. Payback

Agreeing to spend a weekend with Jones was probably one of the dumber decisions he’s made as of late, considering what happened before, but Gilbert is also very fond of pissing off Jones. The added bonus of making Kirkland’s life more difficult made the deal even sweeter.

Compared to the two guys who were trying to hide that they were in a relationship, Gilbert is not prepared to handle the Jones and Kirkland he encounters when he gets in their apartment. They not only have no issue kissing, but they also seem to go out of their way to make out in front of him. It’s all very loud and very graphic, and Gilbert finds it disgusting.

When they finally settle down to play video games as originally intended, Kirkland curls up in Jones’s lap, and they nuzzle their faces together until Gilbert looks away, rolling his eyes. Jones loads up Minecraft, and Gilbert frowns when he sees Kirkland holding a controller, too. Jones looks at him and smiles.

“Me and Arthur against you. First one to make a diamond sword and kill the other wins.”

Gilbert shrugs. “Feh. Not like Kirkland will be a challenge anyway. Don’t bitch when I kill your boyfriend, Jones.”

So he says, but even though Kirkland is terrible—all things considered—he’s better than Gilbert thought he’d be. At one point he finds his house on fire and Kirkland running away from it.

“Fuck you, Kirkland!” Gilbert snaps and tries to put out the flames before his house burns down, while Kirkland and Jones laugh and give each other a high-five.

It’s an odd thing to see, and for a moment Gilbert just gapes at them. They notice and resume the disgusting kissing and cuddling, and Gilbert realizes what they’re doing.

“I love you,” Jones says, and the look on Kirkland’s face before they kiss is anything but fabricated.

Despite how bizarre it is to see Kirkland acting like that, it’s far more irritating that they’re doing it in the first place.

“Get a room,” Gilbert says and tries to focus on the game.

Kirkland and Jones, however, stop abruptly and shrug, then they get up and walk away with each other.

Gilbert sits and blinks in confusion, but his question is quickly answered. He hears thumping followed by moaning.

“Ah! Alfred!”

“Arthur! Oohh!”

The sounds continue, increasing in volume and frequency until Gilbert throws his controller across the room.

“Oh my fucking god! Don’t you assholes have neighbors?”


	31. Piercing (NSFW)

“I wanna kiss you.”

The words are twinged with a slight whine—a sound Arthur has grown accustomed to over the past few weeks. Arthur pauses as he pours mouthwash into a paper cup. He sighs and turns to face Alfred, exasperated but still fond.

“I’ve given you plenty of kisses, stop whining.”

Regardless, Arthur takes Alfred’s face in his hands and pulls him in for a quick, close-mouthed kiss. Alfred frowns when he pulls away.

“Plenty of really boring kisses, yeah. I want your tongue in my mouth, damn it.” 

Arthur snorts. “And believe me when I say that I would love to have my tongue in your mouth, but this will have to do for now.”

He gives Alfred another quick peck then shoves him away, ignoring the way he pouts. He picks up the paper cup and rinses his mouth while Alfred sulks to the side. When Arthur is done, Alfred hugs him from behind and grumbles. Arthur lightly elbows Alfred, but doesn’t otherwise move.

“How much longer is this going to go on?”

“Just a few more days if all goes well.” Arthur turns his head and smiles, which finally earns him a small smile from Alfred as well.

“Going to jump you then in that case.”

“I look forward to it.”

Arthur pulls away from Alfred and moves away from the sink, while Alfred takes his place to brush his teeth. One more day down of the healing period for his tongue piercing, one more day closer to being able to enjoy it fully.

Despite giving Alfred a hard time for his whining, Arthur can’t deny that he is feeling the same frustrations. It’s been bad enough having to cut back on smoking without also being unable to kiss Alfred as he would like. In the end they also decided to cut back on sex when it became clear that sex isn’t quite the same when there are no open-mouthed deep kisses involved. He’s been trying to make up for it by initiating their cuddling sessions more often and indulging Alfred with frequent light kisses, but it’s obvious that their inability to snog is bothering them both.

Arthur has wanted a tongue piercing for a very long time, however. It was the one piercing he knew he couldn’t realistically give himself and so he went without. But now that he’s in a stable environment and can afford the piercing both financially and in terms of health, it was an opportunity he finally decided to jump at.

Alfred had been supportive of the idea, at least until Arthur’s announcement about how there wouldn’t be tongues involved in their kisses while his piercing healed.

After a month full of mouthwashes, careful eating, reduced smoking and dealing with an Alfred who might be even more kiss hungry than he is, Arthur inspects his tongue in the mirror. No more swelling, no more disturbing white film around the piercing, and the smaller barbell that was put in two weeks earlier looks the way he hoped it would. He closes his mouth with a smile. He’ll still have to take care for awhile, but there is at least one thing that should be safe to do.

The clock in the kitchen tells him that it won’t be long until Alfred gets home from his afternoon shift at work, so he opts to wait by the door. Sure enough, it’s not long before the door unlocks and Alfred appears. His face brightens when he sees Arthur.

“Hey, sweetheart! Were you going out? Kinda late, isn’t it?”

Instead of telling Alfred that he was simply waiting, he steps forward and pulls Alfred into a kiss. Alfred lets out a small noise of surprise and drops his bag, but is quick to return the kiss.

Arthur smiles as he wraps his arms around Alfred and pulls him away from the door, rubbing at his back as he kisses him. Alfred eagerly accepts his tongue into his mouth, and after a month of not being able to do this, Arthur doesn’t bother with finesse or worrying about the ridiculous noises they’re making. Yes, he’s _definitely_ missed being able to kiss Alfred like this.

After a few very enjoyable moments, Arthur starts to move back, ready to ask Alfred if he’s satisfied now, but then Alfred’s arm hooks around his waist and he’s pulled back into a rough kiss.

Alfred has always been a bit of a clumsy kisser, but his technique has vastly improved during the time they’ve been together. It seems, though, that whatever skills he’s managed to acquire are thrown out the window. Arthur clings to Alfred as he’s pushed against the wall, while Alfred does his best to devour him. Normally it’s Alfred who struggles to keep up with their kisses, but this time Arthur can barely match Alfred’s pace as their tongues tangle. Regardless, he does what he can to reciprocate.

It _has_ been a long time, so Arthur is not exactly surprised by Alfred’s eagerness, especially not after how restless Alfred had become over the course of the healing period. With the way Alfred has him pinned against the wall coupled with the very demanding way in which he’s being kissed, Arthur’s head starts to grow fuzzy.

Despite himself, he lets out a soft moan. Alfred pulls away in a rush after that, and the motion is so abrupt that Arthur is left with his tongue hanging out of his open mouth. In the brief moment before he closes it, Alfred stares with slightly glazed eyes at his tongue. Alfred’s cheeks turn pink and he gestures towards the kitchen.

“I’m gonna…go make dinner,” he says in a hoarse, slightly breathless voice.

He clears his throat and stumbles away, leaving Arthur still breathing heavily.

Arthur stares at the spot where Alfred had just been standing, feeling somewhat put out. He frowns. It was very unfair of Alfred to kiss him like that and then not follow through all the way. He pushes off the wall and straightens his clothes then follows after Alfred into the kitchen. Alfred doesn’t look at him, even when they sit down to eat together, but Arthur decides to not take it personally.

* * *

Arthur wonders about Alfred sometimes.

He often catches Alfred staring at his mouth, especially when they’re eating or talking to each other, and he always stares with such intensity that Arthur actually has to blush a bit.

It’s not simply staring, though.

Alfred kisses him more, at every opportunity it seems, and every kiss is very aggressive and heated. When Arthur pulls away to catch his breath, he’s quickly pulled back into another demanding kiss. Every night finds them making out on the sofa, though Alfred is more focused on his mouth than anything else. Arthur can’t complain, because he has no issue with Alfred wanting to kiss him like that and kiss him often.

Whenever Arthur tries to take it further, however, Alfred always stops and rushes off without explanation. The logical step after such intense and heavy kissing would be to make love, at least in Arthur’s mind, but apparently not in Alfred’s. While Arthur certainly doesn’t mind that kissing is just kissing and doesn’t lead to anything else, he would also like to know why, when sex is part of how they express their love, Alfred is avoiding it.

He decides to test his suspicions when he’s lying underneath Alfred on the sofa, and Alfred is intensely focused on kissing him almost senseless.

He lets his hands wander across Alfred’s back, appreciating the muscles he can feel through Alfred’s shirt, and eventually he slips his hand across Alfred’s jeans to squeeze his ass. Alfred pulls away with a gasp, but Arthur pulls him back. He grinds his hips against Alfred’s, hoping he’ll take the hint, and he finds that Alfred is every bit as hard as he is.

Rather than be swept up into Alfred’s arms to be carried off to their bedroom or the equivalent thereof, Alfred pulls away with an almost guilty look on his face. His cheeks are bright red, and as Arthur breathes heavily through his open mouth, Alfred once again fixes a stare on his mouth. Alfred swallows and falls off the sofa as he struggles to get away.

“Sorry.” Alfred rushes away, likely to take care of that little problem in his jeans.

Arthur rolls his eyes, and he has half a mind to steal some of Alfred’s clothes to wear so Alfred will be too turned on to pass up the opportunity to have sex with him. The thought makes him freeze.

Arthur sits up slowly, but he grins to himself as something that should have been extremely obvious finally occurs to him. The frequent, extended kissing sessions, the staring, the general fixation on his mouth, his embarrassment every time Arthur tries to take it further—all of these point to one thing.

Alfred is turned on by the tongue piercing.

He runs his hand through his hair and chuckles to himself. That really should have been obvious from the very beginning, given how embarrassed and secretive Alfred can be about things that he finds arousing. Arthur licks his lips, running the ball of the piercing over them. He clicks his tongue and falls back against the sofa with a grin on his face.

Once again, it seems that if Alfred won’t tell him straight about the little things that turn him on, Arthur will have to take the matter into his own hands.

* * *

Arthur is somewhat ashamed to admit it, but he enjoys watching Alfred’s increasing frustration as he relegates their kissing back to simple pecks on the lips and cheek. Alfred doesn’t whine this time, but it’s very clear to Arthur that Alfred isn’t happy with the situation. Frustrated is just how Arthur wants him, though.

It’s one day after Alfred comes home from work that Arthur decides to make his move, when Alfred is in their bedroom taking off his trousers with a tired sigh. Arthur quietly slips into the room with him, and when Alfred turns around, Arthur jumps him, knocking him back so he falls back onto their bed with Arthur above him. Arthur pins Alfred’s arms and straddles his legs so he won’t try to get away.

“Arthur, what—”

Arthur leans down to lick Alfred’s lips, making sure the piercing brushes them, and Alfred’s eyes widen. He leans up to try to kiss him, but Arthur pulls back with a smile.

“Fucking—let me kiss you, Arthur,” Alfred says, the whine back in his voice. The desperate look on his face is exactly what Arthur wants to see.

Arthur’s smile widens, but he leans down and kisses Alfred anyway. Arthur feels Alfred try to move his arms, but Arthur keeps them pinned. Even so, Alfred’s tongue is in his mouth, brushing insistently against his, and Arthur obliges him, knowing fully well now that Alfred likes the feeling of that metal ball against his tongue.

He pulls away after a short time, making Alfred grunt. Arthur kisses Alfred’s nose then slips down the length of his body, eventually climbing off the bed. He pulls Alfred’s hips to the end of the bed, and Alfred sits up with a confused, slightly hesitant look on his face. Arthur grins as he kneels in front of Alfred.

With Alfred’s trousers gone, it’s a simple matter of pulling down Alfred’s boxers to reveal his already semi-hard cock. Arthur takes it in hand, stroking it lightly to bring Alfred to a full erection. Alfred groans.

“Arthur, what are you doing?”

Arthur looks up at Alfred, whose eyebrows are already knotting. “Do you not want me to?”

Alfred’s eyes widen and he shakes his head rapidly. “Fuck—god, _fuck_ , I want you to do it.”

Arthur smiles and spreads Alfred’s legs apart, shifting forward. “Then relax, precious.”

Alfred’s cheeks darken in color at that name, but he nods.

Arthur turns his attention to Alfred’s cock, which is fully erect and already emitting pre-cum, and he hesitates. He’s never done this before, and the thought of hurting himself or, worse, hurting Alfred makes his stomach do a little flip.

Arthur takes Alfred’s cock in hand and leans forward, giving the slit a small, experimental lick. Not as bad as he’d been afraid of. Alfred lets out a small noise, somewhere between a squeak and a moan, and Arthur’s heart rate increases. He closes his mouth over the tip, sucking gently, and he notes the way Alfred’s thighs quiver. He pulls away.

He knows he can’t take all of Alfred’s cock in his mouth, not if he wants to choke and completely ruin the mood, so he strokes with his hand as he looks up at Alfred. Alfred’s face is bright red and he’s already breathing heavily and sweating a little, increasing Arthur’s confidence.

Alfred has done this to him many times, and it’s those experiences he has to draw on in the hopes of making Alfred feel as good as Alfred makes him feel.

He licks slowly along the underside of Alfred’s cock, making sure his piercing brushes against Alfred’s sensitive skin. Alfred shivers and lifts a hand to lightly grip at Arthur’s hair. Arthur pulls back, taking a deep breath before he slowly closes his mouth over Alfred’s cock. He sucks gently as he did before, but instead of pulling away, he takes more of Alfred’s cock into his mouth.

Alfred lets out a strangled moan and tightens his grip on Arthur’s hair, but it’s not enough to hurt. Arthur breathes through his nose as he sucks at Alfred’s cock, stroking with his hand to make up for his inability to deepthroat him. He makes use of his piercing while he licks and sucks Alfred’s cock, pulling back before lowering his head again and taking Alfred’s cock back into his mouth. He closes his eyes.

Alfred’s shallow breathing and quiet whimpers are music to Arthur’s ears. Alfred means the world to him, and making him feel good is but one tiny thing he can do for someone who has done so much for him.

He pulls back and licks the tip of Alfred’s cock again, deliberately slowing down to let the ball of his piercing drag slowly along the head of Alfred’s cock. Alfred squirms, whimpering.

“Arthur…gonna…”

Arthur pulls back, knowing full well he won’t be able to swallow, and he finishes Alfred off with quick strokes of his hand. Alfred comes with a choked cry of Arthur’s name, and Arthur waits until Alfred fully rides out his orgasm and stops blinking rapidly before he pushes Alfred down onto the bed and climbs onto it next to him.

“And this is why you should tell me when things turn you on,” Arthur says with a grin.

Alfred blushes brightly and swallows. “Yeah, well…you’ve never given me a blowjob before. Didn’t think it would be okay to just ask for one.”

Arthur stares at Alfred for a moment, who stares up at the ceiling as he catches his breath. Arthur’s expression softens.

“I’ve never done that to anyone before,” he says.

Alfred turns to give him an incredulous look. “You…what, really? But didn’t you…”

He bites his lip, but Arthur shakes his head with a small chuckle.

“I’ve never really liked using my mouth for anything, really. Not kissing, not talking. Certainly not giving someone a blowjob.”

Alfred’s eyebrows furrow, and Arthur shakes his head before he can speak.

“Alfred, I know what you’re thinking and stop. I love kissing you.”

“So…what makes it different with me then?” Alfred asks, rolling onto his side to look Arthur in the eye.

Arthur considers him for a moment then smiles.

“Well. It’s different _because_ it’s you.” He moves his hand to idly stroke Alfred’s cheek. “Because you are the ridiculous fool whom I love. Because you make me feel good. Because I want to make _you_ feel good. Because above all else I know I can trust you. Because if I can fully trust you with my heart and not have it backfire then I think a little blowjob is the least I can give you.”

Alfred’s face brightens into a beautiful smile, which makes Arthur’s smile widen.

“May I kiss you?” Arthur asks, shifting his gaze to Alfred’s lips.

Alfred blinks then frowns. “What? Why are you even asking?”

“Well, I _did_ just have your cock in my mouth.”

Alfred doesn’t respond, at least not verbally. Arthur finds himself on his back with Alfred above him just before he’s kissed deeply.

_Oh, I love you_ , he thinks as he lifts his hands to tangle in Alfred’s hair. This time the kiss isn’t so aggressive, which is a nice change of pace, Arthur decides. It’s deep, but slow—languid. Arthur enjoys it and Alfred, at least until Alfred pulls away with a furrowed brow.

“Hey, wait. What about you?”

“Hmm? What _about_ me?”

“You got me off, but what about you?”

“Never mind me, this was about you.”

“To hell with that. Gonna suck you off, too.”

Arthur thinks to protest, but Alfred is already sliding down along his body to fumble with the buttons and zipper of his trousers. He tosses his head back to look at the ceiling and he can’t help but laugh.


	32. Warm Your Heart for Me

On one of their first nights living together and sleeping together in the same bed, Alfred rolls over onto his side, staring at Arthur’s back. The fact that Arthur is there with him brings him immense joy on its own, and he knows he shouldn’t push too much, not when their relationship is fragile despite how far they’ve come already, but he can’t help but want a little more.

He shifts over a little, and he knows Arthur is still awake by the way he’s breathing. He takes a deep breath of his own and speaks quietly into the darkness.

“Hey, Arthur?” Arthur makes a noise signaling that he heard, giving Alfred the courage to continue. “Can I hold you?”

A long silence follows, and as it drags on, Alfred thinks about shrinking back and pretending it never happened, but then Arthur finally speaks up.

“All right.”

Alfred’s heart skips a beat and he smiles as he shifts over more to spoon Arthur. The second his arm is around Arthur, though, he feels Arthur tense up. Even so, he continues to pull Arthur against him, and as he nuzzles at the back of Arthur’s neck, Arthur tenses up even more.

“Should I stop?”

Another long silence follows, and no matter Arthur’s response, Alfred knows he needs to stop.

“No, it’s fine,” Arthur finally says, but Alfred has made up his mind.

“It’s okay.” He presses his face to Arthur’s back one last time as he pulls away.

Arthur turns to him when he does, and Alfred gives him a small smile. He can’t place Arthur’s expression, but before he can examine it any further, Arthur turns back around and puts his head back down. Alfred deflates a little, and he can’t help but frown as he rolls onto his side away from Arthur.

He knows very well that he shouldn’t push, but he can’t help but want to be able to hold Arthur and cuddle him—show him that love doesn’t need to be kisses, sex, or saying the words out loud. Love can be eating breakfast together in the morning and sleeping in each other’s arms at night.

As sleep eventually overcomes him, he swears to himself that he’ll do his best to help Arthur see the merits of simple displays of affection.

* * *

Alfred learns quickly that one of Arthur’s favorite things to do is sit on the couch with a book that he can engross himself in for a long time. He reads some questionable material, but Alfred is pleased that Arthur at least feels comfortable enough to read without hiding away or forcing himself to do what Alfred wants because he thinks that’s what he’s supposed to do.

The day following his attempt to spoon Arthur, he decides to try again to give Arthur some simple physical affection, and he sits on the couch next to Arthur. Arthur gives him a look of acknowledgment, but then returns his attention to his book.

Of course, Alfred could abandon his plan and play a video game or read something of his own instead, but he bites his lip and wrings his hands before he blurts out the words.

“Can I hold you?”

In the light of day, Alfred can plainly see Arthur tense up. His eyes rapidly scan the page he’d been reading, but Alfred knows that he isn’t actually seeing the words. Arthur looks at him and then quickly looks away again.

“Go ahead.”

Alfred starts with an arm around him at first, and once again Arthur tenses. It’s not as bad as the night before, so Alfred rubs at Arthur’s arm. Although he doesn’t tense up any further, Arthur doesn’t relax either.

There’s a loud, nagging part of Alfred that wants to ask what happened to Arthur to make him so averse to physical contact that isn’t kissing or sex, but, once again, he doesn’t want to push something that is still so fragile. He barely has any experience with relationships as it is, so the rather odd one he has with Arthur doesn’t help things. He’s learning as he goes, and although the pace of progression in their relationship seems agonizingly slow, Alfred is still just happy that he’s experiencing this with Arthur.

So, although he’s always been an affectionate guy, he just leaves the one arm around Arthur. They sit like that for a while, and Alfred is happy enough that he gets to be this close to Arthur.

At length, Arthur sets his book to the side and takes a deep breath. Alfred waits for him to get up and for that closeness to end. Instead, he turns and looks as though he’s contemplating something. Alfred is about to ask if he’s done something wrong when Arthur shifts forward, briefly making eye contact, and closes his eyes as he rests his head against Alfred’s chest. With a bit of somewhat awkward maneuvering, he puts his arms lightly around Alfred.

For Alfred, the feeling that Arthur’s gesture brings is one of pure pleasure—the simple joy of being close to the person he loves. He’s been craving this type of physical contact, where just Arthur’s touch makes him immeasurably happy. Of course, he wants to hold Arthur close and press his face to Arthur’s neck and breathe him in, but if he can be held by Arthur like this, he could sing to the world of his happiness. He wants Arthur to feel just as happy being close to him as he does being close to Arthur.

When Arthur doesn’t recoil, Alfred lets his arms gently wrap around Arthur in return. Arthur is still tense, but he can feel that the tension is easing away with each gesture. Alfred also closes his eyes, and he lets out a content sigh.

“I like holding you like this.” He figures he should be honest, because maybe it’ll help Arthur to feel more comfortable, but that thought makes Alfred pause. “How do you feel?”

“…I don’t know.”

It’s an honest enough answer, even if it’s not the one Alfred had been hoping for. ‘I really love you, sweetheart’ is what he wants to say, but he can’t imagine how Arthur would react to those words being said so casually, much less with the paltry pet name thrown in. He’ll be careful to never let that particular internal habit of his slip.

Alfred opens his eyes, but Arthur still has his closed.

“Do you want to stop?”

“No.”

The response is quick that time, which makes Alfred smile. Their progression is sometimes frustratingly slow, but breakthroughs like these make every moment completely worth it.

Alfred lets his eyes close again to enjoy the moment as long as he can.


End file.
